


You're Still Laughably Confident

by troubavaestor



Series: The Pretty Boy Trio [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Acting, Communication Failure, Getting Back Together, Implied Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, M/M, Model Kise Ryouta, Modeling, Olympics, Past Relationship(s), Summer Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubavaestor/pseuds/troubavaestor
Summary: They dated, they broke up, Ushjima left Oikawa to train for the Olympics, Oikawa focused on his career and 12 years went by. Two 30 year olds with the communication skills of embryos.





	1. Retirement Never Looked So Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 08/21/2017 Hi! I've edited and messed around with some bits, so think of it as being fully completed now! Now to work on AoKise...

When Oikawa had been younger he’d been beloved, fans of all genders and dozens of schools jockeying for his attention. Little had changed over the past 12 years. He was still beloved just not as the resident champion. Now, he was known as the fifth most desirable man to have sex with, at least, according to last month’s polls. The fans of all genders quadrupled and the schools became magazines, movie directors and big entertainment companies all vying for the attention of Japan’s latest model turned actor. But Oikawa wasn’t interested in provincial things like fortune and fame and fans. They were nice, of course, but they weren’t what he wanted.  
  
The sweat, the aching lungs, the daunting, but welcomed challenge of a match against Japan’s premier volleyball athlete and two-time Olympic champion Ushijima Wakatoshi. Well, it wasn’t all he missed about precious Ushiwaka. The gaze that pierced him across the court had been no different in the bedroom. It was perhaps gentler, but all the more focused for it. He had been scrutinized in great detail, but also with great care. Even now, all these years later, Oikawa shivered at the memory of the heated gazes they’d given one another, the slightest touch had set them off.  
  
Oikawa was beloved in high school as a prince, it surprised no one that he went on to find success in the world of modeling and turn that into a burgeoning acting career. He changed very little since he’d already been a prima donna. Yes, not much had changed the past 12 years. Except maybe one thing. Ushijima Wakatoshi was retiring from competitive volleyball at the ripe old age of 31. When asked what he would do afterwards he’d remarked with a small smile that perhaps he’d look into modeling. This summer’s Olympic Games would be his last as a player. He hoped to one day return as a coach, but he wanted to settle down and live quietly for a few years.  
  
It was a recent interview, as recent as three weeks ago, and Oikawa had picked it up not because Ushiwaka’s face was on it, but because the words “mystery engagement” were sitting next to the medal on his chest. And okay maybe he’d been bored at the hair salon and the brief glimpse of his former lover’s face had caught more of his attention than he’d wanted it to.  
As Oikawa flipped to the five page spread a hand waved itself in front of his face, blocking his view of the page numbers.  
“Oikawacchi! What are you doing here?”  
He slapped Kise’s hand away and ignored the whine that came soon after.  
“Isn’t it obvious?”  
“Yeah, but I thought your shoot wasn’t until tomorrow?”  
“It got moved up to today, I messaged you on LINE, you’re the one who didn’t read it.”  
Kise pulled out an old model phone with a dark blue cover. He huffed as he flipped it open a few times, a contemplative look on his face.  
“My phone has been weird lately. It won’t receive messages or calls.”  
“I could tell.” Oikawa said dryly as he resumed his hunt for page 117. Kise continued to whine beside him as a stylist came to fuss over his now drying hair.  
“Aominecchi gets so mad and it’s not even my fault! He keeps telling me to get a new phone, big, dumb cop.”  
But the sparkle in Kise’s eyes took the heat of the insult away. He slipped into the seat on Oikawa’s left and allowed a flurry of stylists circle him. Kise’s ability to continue conversations while being buffed, polished and fawned over would always be a thing of wonder to him.  
“So what are you reading? You never read.”  
Oikawa snorted as he flipped past page 116.  
“You just don’t know the amazing intellectual side of me that exists to complement my perfect self.”  
“Aren’t compliments the best? I wish Aominecchi would compliment me more, I mean we’ve been friends since middle school!”

 _From Tokyo conqueror to Olympian to Retirement. Find everything on volleyball’s most eligible bachelor in this exclusive interview._  
  
Oikawa’s eyes fell to Ushijima’s profile: age, height, achievements, education; he was the perfect man on paper. Then his eyes traced the shadows in the picture’s eyes, the way his jersey clung to his shoulders, the mysterious curvature of Ushijima’s mouth. A shadow engulfed the glossy white pages and Ushiwaka’s half-frown.  
“You guys are here too? Did you hear about the cancelled Diorre shoot?”  
Oikawa groaned internally. Was today ‘Bring Your Model Friend to Work Day’?  
Kise waved happily, “Kisucchi!”  
  
The latest interruption hurried to the chair next to Kise’s and shooed away the throng of women so they could talk better. He leaned over further and Kise leaned in too. Oikawa spared them a curious glance. A lascivious smiled gripped Kisumi’s face when he realized he had everyone’s attention.  
“I heard the reason why Diorre got cancelled is because somebody slept with the photographer. The married with a pregnant wife photographer.”  
Kise gasped appropriately, but Oikawa felt his eyes roll before realizing what had happened.  
“Who cares? That’s what this industry is about for some people. Sleeping up the ladder.”  
Kisumi’s smile just widened, “Yeah, but does everyone sleep with a company president’s only son, the heir to the company son who’s the cousin of the photographer’s pregnant wife?”  
Alright, he was only human. He motioned for his manager to come over and handed them the magazine with explicit instructions not to throw it away, he wanted to read it later. They nodded and scurried over to a well-known actress, trying to land a few more connections.  
“Now, tell me all the dirty details.”

So being in high demand wasn’t all fame and glory like the tabloids made it out to be. And he certainly did not party at Rainy, that two-bit club couldn’t hold the magnificence that was his aura, but of course a tabloid claimed he’d been there and that he’d danced, drank and devoured a few of the male attendees. But a gossip rag wasn’t the magazine he was looking for.  
“The magazine from earlier?” He asked his manager as they drove back to his apartment.  
“The sports one right? Should be in the Limeade promo bag. Don’t forget about tomorrow’s meeting with Lemon&Lime, they’re seriously interested in casting you for the next commercial. Bring an extra change of clothes too; there might be a water event on Wavy-chan’s talk show.”  
“I hate that ditzy pop idol. It’s a radio show, who is the water for? No one’s watching but her and the staff.” Oiwawa grumbled as he fished through the offensively colored bag. There it was, not a wrinkle on the smooth glossy cover save for the one on Ushiwaka’s brow.  
“I know, but she’s the most popular idol with her own talk show right now and she helps get you that male 20-25 audience we’ve been missing. A few more sessions and by the time your next project comes out they might be more inclined to watch it. Here we are. Don’t forget, change of clothes, early Lemon&Lime meeting. I’ll pick you up around seven.”  
“Alright, goodnight.”  
“Goodnight Oikawa-san.”  
  
As his manager drove away Oikawa was hit with a cold breeze. This year’s winter was dragging on longer than normal. Hurrying through the lobby of his building he shivered in the elevator and waited the slow trek up 11 stories. The magazine sat curled in his hand, it beckoned at him every time he unconsciously flexed his hand. He could read a paragraph or two while he waited, couldn’t he? This time flipping to page 117 was easier. He looked over the basic profile once more, lingering on what he hadn’t noticed before. Marital status with a row of question marks beside it. As far as he knew most profiles didn’t include such a whimsical detail. Most profiles didn’t need that extra reminder that their subjects were in unattainable territory. Kisumi definitely didn't have Yamazaki Sousuke listed as his significant other on anything publicly accessible. Let the fans live in blissful ignorance of imaginary marriages and dreamy weddings with their favorite celebrity.  
Then he remembered “mystery engagement” and felt his stomach drop. In truth he hadn’t forgotten he’d just put it out of his mind and this was just an ugly, unneeded reminder that maybe Ushiwaka had finally moved on.  
_Interviewer_  
_You’ve contributed greatly to Japan’s volleyball efforts, bringing home two gold medals in a sport previously proven to be difficult for Japan to medal in, what are your thoughts on retiring now after bringing so much fame and glory to the sport for your country?_  
_Ushijima_  
_I like to think of it as setting up a path for future generations to follow. This is just the first step for Japan and it certainly won’t be the last. I would like to return to the games one day, but as a coach so I can help lead the future generations into victory._  
_Interviewer_  
_Are you sad at all about leaving behind your teammates as you enter early retirement? Many of them will continue on to the next Olympic Games after your last one._  
_Ushijima_  
_(laughs)_  
Oikawa wished he could hear that laugh, he could almost imagine it. Twelve years filtered a lot of it into nostalgia rather than reality. He felt that it had been rich and deep and a rare occurrence in their youth, but Oikawa supposed Ushijima had found more reasons to laugh with his new fiancée. Not that there was anything wrong with that.  
_(laughs) They’ll be continuing, but it doesn’t mean our connection ends here. We’ve forged great bonds as a team and we have plans to meet in the future._  
_Interviewer_  
_It’s good to have camaraderie among teammates. I think the biggest question weighing on everyone’s mind is why the early retirement? You could easily follow your teammates on to the next Olympic Games, in fact, many people assumed you would. Is there another reason behind it, perhaps a certain someone?_  
  
A loud ding and lurching stop jarred Oikawa from the interview. He walked off and fumbled for his keys, cursing the biter breezes billowing in from an opened window at the end of the hallway. Once inside he unwrapped his scarf, shrugged off his coat and hung them both from the rack by the door. He slipped shoe trees into his oxfords and relished the feel of fuzzy bunny slippers. Flopping down onto his couch he flicked a light on and snapped the magazine back open.  
_Ushijima_  
_Though there is someone I hold dearly they are not reason for my early departure. I chose retirement to focus more on the things I’ve lost. Time, friendships, the ability to socialize in society with normal people who aren’t driven athletes set on winning national pride. I’ll win another medal and what will that get me? Less shelf space._  
_Interviewer_  
_Is this special someone the daughter of the team’s biggest sponsor K Group? Or a wealthy socialite from New York where you seem to spend a lot of time?_  
_Ushijima_  
_I actually am curious about that myself. Why are there so many engagement rumors around me? I’ve not done anything remotely scandalous in recent memory._  
_Interviewer_  
_Well it has to be that visit to a jewelry store in New York a few months ago. Were you buying a ring for a special someone? Apparently the store workers claimed you were perusing the ring section and you were seen leaving with one of the store’s bags in hand._  
_Ushijima_  
_(laughs for a long time)_  
_OH. Actually I went as a favor for a friend. They had a watch being fixed, but couldn’t find the time to pick it up and a few months had gone by. I volunteered to go get it and was stuck looking around the store because they took so long trying to find it since so much time had passed. I do remember looking at the rings on display, but I gave them no more added interest than I did the necklaces or bracelets. I did maybe linger in the watch section, they had an excellent selection._  
_Interviewer_  
_Is that so? A favor for a friend, such good timing, no?_  
_Ushijima_  
_I like to think so, yes._  
_Interviewer_  
_And there’s maybe nothing else to add to your jewelry escapade?_  
_Ushijima_  
_I may go back and purchase a watch._  
  
Oikawa couldn’t help a few tittering giggles before they evolved into full on, side aching laughs. No wonder the media took to this like sharks with blood in the water. If a rich, successful and famous bachelor was seen in any form of jewelry store it would sustain them for weeks, but for that bachelor to leave said store with a bag holding one of the store’s products that would cause a furious uproar for months. Poor Ushiwaka was just being a good friend, he honestly hadn’t thought of the repercussions his actions might have.  
  
It reminded him of the time they went on their first not-date. Ushiwaka had agreed to run to the mall and get in line for some pop idol CD because a friend of his had family duties they couldn’t get out of. There they’d been, two gigantic volleyball playing _boys_ in line for the latest Lipstick Charade CD. He’d actually called and asked if Oikawa was busy that day and if not would he be interested in keeping him company while running an errand? Now, Oikawa would never admit the weird leap in his chest at the thought of spending the day with Ushijima Wakatoshi, but dammit something had to give. Maybe he showed up in nicer clothes than what he would usually wear on a Saturday. Maybe he spent extra time on his hair and maybe he ran to the subway. Maybe, when he saw Ushiwaka standing near the exit, the flush on his face wasn’t just from running up the stairs. But none of that mattered now.  
_Interviewer_  
_But you admit you have someone you cherish?_  
_Ushijima_  
_Yes, but it’s been many years since I’ve seen them. Our schedules would never match and they would often be left waiting for me and I would be unable to meet them. That relationship is the one I most wish to salvage._  
_Interviewer_  
_If it’s been years since you’ve seen them isn’t it possible that they’ve found someone else?_  
_Ushijima_  
_I wish for their happiness and if that happiness is not found with me then that cannot be helped, but I doubt that highly._  
_Interviewer_  
_Spoken with the confidence of an Olympian._  
_Ushijima_  
_No, it’s the confidence of an unfulfilled promise._  
  
The interview went on to talk about other things, but it was irrelevant. Ushiwaka had to have been talking about him. There’d been no one else in his life; Oikawa had spent many breaks scouring the gossip rags and tabloids for any hint of another relationship. There’d been nothing. He was sure of it. But then again if nothing in the tabloids was what constituted relationship status Oikawa was nothing too.

“EEK! THERE’S JUST WATER EVERYWHERE! OH GOSH, OINKAWA-SAN, I HOPE YOU DIDN’T GET SUPER WET!”  
Oikawa took two deep breaths and prayed to whoever the fuck was listening. He made sure the smile on his face hadn’t cracked and responded with a light laugh, “I’m fine Wavy.”  
“NO NO NO! YOU HAVE TO CALL ME WAVY-CHAN. IT’S FOR OUR LISTENERS! YOU KEEP FORGETTING! ISN’T IT HARD TO REMEMBER LINES FOR MOVIES IF YOU’RE SO DITZY ALL THE TIME OINKAWA-SAN?”  
“Must’ve been the shock of being drenched in water inside a recording booth. Isn’t it bad if the equipment has water damage? You do this corner a lot right? Maybe look into protective gear for all this expensive looking equipment.” Oikawa paused and adopted an overt concerned tone, “But I’m just an actor, starring in my next film Daniella out this Friday, what would I know about super expensive radio equipment? It all looks super pricey to me.”  
“YOU’RE SO SILLY OINKAWA-SAN. OF COURSE EVERYTHING IN THE WAVY FUN TIME SOUNDBOOTH IS SUPER EXPENSIVE! ONLY THE BEST FOR WAVY-CHAN OF WETLADIES! DON’T FORGET ABOUT WETLADIES NEW SINGLE PHEROMONES DROPPING THIS THURSDAY AT MIDNIGHT! WE’RE COMING BACK WITH A SURFING CONCEPT!”  
“Gosh another surfing concept! Isn’t this the fifth one? I’m so excited to see what new and amazing things you have planned this time. After all that practice with the other comebacks this one should be the best.”  
Wavy eyed Oikawa suspiciously, but chose to ignore him. The director gave the one minute warning and she quickly went through all of her special thanks and shoutouts to certain fans. No doubt those lucky few would be at home in a locked room thoroughly enjoying the WETLADIES and their obviously well thought out name.  
“GIVE SOME LOVE TO OUR LISTENERS OINKAWA-SAN!”  
“Thank you to all my fans for always supporting me and a special thanks to Olympian Ushijima Wakatoshi. Congratulations on a successful career so far and continue shining brightly at this summer’s Olympic Games as well. This has been Oikawa Tooro of Eagleye Entertainment. Have a sexy day you damn handsome listeners!”

“Oikawa-san I told you not to do anything crazy. Now what am I going to tell the president when newshounds come barging through the front door?” His manager whined and wheedled on the drive back to the company. Oikawa himself felt rather pleased and ignored his manager in favor of checking his social media. After a hurried farewell on Wavy’s part the box was in an uproar. Why did he acknowledge a sports star on an idol entertainment radio show? What if the ratings are bad because he was being not energetic enough like precious Wavy-chan? Don’t think they’ll be calling back for a repeat performance any time soon. Honestly he found the entire situation amusing. The president would too, he was sure of it. Despite being the president of a well-known entertainment company the man loved watching drama unfold and was subscribed to every halfway decent gossip blog.  
“It wasn’t a big deal. Besides volleyball is a man’s sport and if the majority of listeners are men then they should appreciate my shoutout to Ushijima, Japan’s _hero_.”  
“You knew him right, Oikawa-san?”  
“High school, it was forever ago, I doubt he remembers.”  
“I heard he’s engaged now. Wonder what kind of a woman was able to trap a man like that.”  
Oikawa gave a noncommittal reply and scrolled through more pictures on his feed. There was Kise promoting his latest ad campaign with a luxury fragrance line and another with a behind the scenes video of the rock star drama he was currently filming. Captivating clear blue water dominated the feed next as Kisumi posed naked by a swimming pool with only a brightly colored, well-placed vitamin water bottle covering him. Wow, Kisumi’s boyfriend was going to be super mad about that. Speaking of boyfriends the next picture was another of Kise’s, the fellow model had taken a good morning selfie and fans were quick to notice the muscled shoulder near Kise’s tousled blonde hair. It’d been scandalous to say the least, no wonder Kise was trying to cover the picture with work posts. Actually, it was more surprising that the photo was still up; Kise had to be getting shit from his company right now. He’d have to message him about it later.  
  
“We’ll be there soon, don’t forget that the president wanted to see you. God and this was before the king of the court incident. Wonder what he wants to talk about.”  
Oikawa fiddled with the car window, opening and closing it, letting cold air swirl into the car. He looked at his dead eyes in the window's reflection and rolled it down all the way.  
“Ushijima is the emperor of the court.”

Oikawa walked into the president’s office without knocking and collapsed into the comfier couch by the window. The president’s laugh rumbled behind him and Oikawa let the sound wash over him, imagining it was someone else.  
“Long day?”  
Oikawa opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them. He must've looked tired.  
“Wet day.”  
“I heard.”  
There were the sounds of paper shuffling and a few clacks of a keyboard before the president spoke again, “I also heard about the Ushijima Wakatoshi incident.”  
Oikawa scoffed, “Is that what we’re calling it now? An incident? I hardly think it was as serious as all that.”  
“No, maybe not, but it was significant. We’ve apparently already got calls flooding in from different sports magazines and tabloids demanding an explanation or at least a connection. Well, they know that you played volleyball against each other in high school, but other than that...”  
The president let his voice trail off and Oikawa felt his gaze burn a hole through the couch he was lying on.  
“There’s nothing else for them to find. Maybe I’m just a fan and I wanted to let my idol know that I’m rooting for him and expect him to bring Japan another gold medal before retiring.”  
“Maybe there’s something more.”  
  
Oikawa sat up and turned to glare at the president. They locked heated gazes, neither willing to submit to the other. A knock came and the president sighed before allowing the intruder to enter. Oikawa’s manager peeked inside and paled as the president stared back at him.  
“The dates for Star and Sea auditions were just posted, they’re later this week and Oikawa-san still needs to decide on whether or not he wants to do the Lemon&Lime campaign.”  
“I’ll take care of it if that’s all.”  
“Oh I couldn’t make you do that sir! That’s my job!”  
“Yes, I know, and you do a wonderful job of it, but Oikawa and I haven’t finished our conversation about the radio incident and I would really rather finish it while I still have him here to myself if that’s alright with you.”  
“Oh yes sir, of course, sir, but really it’s no trouble. If you want I’ll just take care of the other things myself?”  
“Good, and Oikawa will be doing the campaign. Book it.”  
  
The manager bowed and scurried away, shutting the door gently behind him. Oikawa looked at the closed door both bemused and annoyed. Leave it to his manager to either spoil the mood or spoil Oikawa’s mood. He resisted the urge to flop back down on the couch. The president resumed his intense gaze. Welp, too late now.  
“Where were we?”  
“Incident this incident that.”  
“Ah yes, Ushijima Wakatoshi.”  
“He’s just synonymous with the word incident now?”  
“Would you rather I associate it with ex-boyfriend?”  
Oikawa blinked at the president. He sounded weirdly jealous, which was insane because the president had no reason to be jealous, none at all, but it didn’t stop Oikawa from asking.  
“Of course I am and that was harder for me to admit aloud than you’d think.”  
“Why are you jealous?”  
The president took off his glasses and set the down on top of a stack of files. He pierced Oikawa with a humored gaze.  
“You’re occasionally dating me.”  
“Correction, we occasionally see each other naked.”  
“Whatever the case may be you belong to me right now.”  
“I’m not anyone’s!”  
“You belong to me in a lot of aspects of life. I’m your boss.”  
“My divorced boss.”  
“I fail to see what that has to do with the current situation.”  
“You liked women initially that much is obvious, you’ve got three kids. How are your beloved children going to take it when they learn their precious daddy is fucking a man? A man that is under him both professionally and casually? You really want to admit to your kids that you own an employee who also pleases you in bed?”  
  
The president sighed; he pushed up from his desk and stalked over to the couch. There was heat in his eyes that matched the excitement in Oikawa’s gut. This was the tit for tat, the best foreplay one could ask for, intellectual excitement. The president stood and hovered over Oikawa and Oikawa, just to play with him, gave him a coy smile, a hitched breath and spread his knees slightly. The heated look in the president’s eyes doubled. They both knew Oikawa was jerking him around, but sometimes Oikawa needed that sense of superiority and the president allowed him to have it.  
The president grabbed an arm and hauled Oikawa up. As Oikawa stumbled to regain his balance the president pushed him back down. Okay, so the president allowed him to have it, but that was an occasional thing. He leaned down and Oikawa closed his eyes. Sometimes he pretended the president was someone with thick shoulders, someone with muscled calves, someone with the lung capacity of a goddamn whale. And the president knew what Oikawa was thinking all of those sometimes just like he knew now was another one of those sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on....  
> “Yeah, well there’re loads of idiots out there who don’t know that taking a break really means we’re breaking the fuck up.”  
> “I’ve missed that mouth.”


	2. Shibuya Grand Hotel

“Oikawa-san, there was a call earlier from a Mister Ushiwaka.”  
If the International Olympic Committee had said they were all quitting to take up hula dancing and sip mai tais for the rest of their days Oikawa would have been less shocked. He’d been in the middle of pulling his hat back on when the bombshell of all bombshells landed on him. He couldn’t help the inexplicable fury that welled up inside of him. Whirling on his manager a tiny part of him was pleased to see the man shrink back slightly.  
“When? Why didn’t you tell me? What did you say? What did he say?”  
His manager fumbled in his pockets for something and presented Oikawa with his phone. As he snatched it away from him his manager managed a feeble squeak.  
“You were in the middle of your audition for Rogues and Roses. He just wanted to say hi?”  
“As if that man could be capable of saying something so nice.” Oikawa mumbled as he swiped through his recent calls. A Tokyo area code. God, he was back, he was really back.  
“Today’s schedule, cancel the rest of it.”  
Oikawa practically ran away from his manager and pushed himself a little faster when he saw the older man try to chase after him. This was so not how he wanted to spend his morning, but if running through an office meant freedom he’d have to endure the stares.  
“Wait what! What do you mean?” They rounded a corner, “We still have to go to your final fitting for the Lemon&Lime campaign, there’s an audition at 3 and another one at 4:30!”  
A few giggles followed Oikawa as he darted down a long hallway, his manager puffing somewhere behind him, “Not to mention the final meeting for F.E.E.D.”  
His manager began wheezing. Home stretch!  
Oikawa yelled out over his shoulder, “The auditions are for musicals, I don’t sing. L&L will understand, just tell them I was sick or whatever. Re-schedule with F.E.E.D. they’ll understand too.”  
  
There was the front door! He was one lucky taxi ride away from glorious freedom. Just as he was thinking it a taxi rolled to the front and an office worker got out. He waved at the worker and something must have clicked because the man held the door open for him and even shut the door behind him.  
“Shibuya Grand Hotel please.”  
  
As Oikawa moved to freedom he gave his manager a wide grin and threw him a peace out sign. The taxi pulled away and entered the mid-morning traffic. The temporary lull in movement didn’t keep Oikawa’s mind from racing. What the fuck did he just do? Where the fuck was he going right now? To see that volleyball idiot? One missed call and he was on the next plane to Heartbreak Central? Holy LORD. This wasn’t him, he wasn’t the at your beck and call bitch. He was the bitch who made other people beck and call bitches!  
“Um, how much further?”  
“Ten minutes or so.”  
“Oh, I see, okay. That’s great.”  
Fuck him he was nervous. He never got nervous. He was Oikawa Tooru! He didn’t get fucking nervous! But, okay, yeah, maybe his internal dialogue suddenly became a potty mouthed sailor whenever he got nervous, but that wasn’t the point here! The point was that in ten precious little minutes he was going to be in the same building as Ushijima Wakatoshi and that wasn’t something his heart, or his mind frankly, was prepared for. Was it too late to abandon ship? The taxi pulled up next to a Shibuya bound bus and he looked at the happy green color, the advertisement promoting vitamin water and the big white letters that listed ‘Shibuya’ as one of the stops.  
His phone buzzed with another incoming call from his manager, he let it roll over to voicemail. They left the bus behind and Oikawa couldn’t help the way his eyes stayed glued to it. Another buzz indicated the arrival of more messages and missed calls, but all he could think about was the happy green bus somewhere behind them. It was too late to abandon ship.

Oikawa’s body was practically vibrating in the chair. After he’d thanked the driver and paid he walked into the lobby and sat somewhere he could see the elevators. His legs bounced up and down while he tried to keep the jittering in his hands to a minimum. Honestly, an unbeknownst passerby might have thought he was going through a major caffeine high, or drug withdrawal. A young foreign couple walked past him and he felt self-conscious all of a sudden. He pulled his hat down further and silently thanked his manager for forcing him to wear one everywhere in public. What was he doing here? He hadn’t called Ushijima back or let the other man know that he was coming. In fact he’d turned his phone off after the increasing messages and phone calls got to be too much. He was literally just sitting in a hotel lobby waiting for a glimpse of Ushijima like some stalker. And he should know! This was how his stalkers acted. How far the mighty have fallen. Something heavy came down on Oikawa’s shoulder and he absolutely didn’t let out a shriek. Maybe he yelped a little.  
“I’m sorry to startle you.”  
“What the hell is the matter with you! Shock isn’t good for my complexion, it’ll give me wrinkles!”  
A brief chuckle. It wasn’t quite a laugh, wasn’t long enough for Oikawa to compare against the filtered version in his memory, but damn it all if it didn’t fill him with some stupid happy emotion. He turned to look into eyes that would give the name of his company a run for its money.  
“Ushijima.”  
  
They were sitting inside the hotel’s café, a peppermint latte for him and an Americano for the stupid huge person sitting across from him. Really not much had changed. His hair was still thick and cut stupid, his arms grossly huge in the form fitting sweater and, he’d sneaked a look, nicely muscled legs. Sure they were clad in denim, but Oikawa knew they were still the toned and muscled stupid things his own legs used to be hooked around.  
“It’s been too long.”  
“Hasn’t it just?”  
“You look better than when I left you last.”  
Oikawa scoffed, “You left me. Right.”  
“I didn’t mean that how it sounded, forgive me.”  
Taking all sorts of weird turns today. Oikawa decided to just nod and he noticed the weird relief in Ushijima’s eyes. He saw the waitress returning with their drinks, she glanced at Oikawa and he tried to look away inconspicuously. By the way she ran back to her co-workers squealing, it didn’t work.  
“Popular as ever I see.”  
“What can a body do when it’s this sinfully gorgeous?”  
“Gorgeous, yes, perhaps a good word for it.”  
  
Well what the hell did that mean? He fiddled with the cup handle, pushing it back and forth.  
  
“You’ve not said that you’re glad to see me.”  
“What? Oh, uh, yeah, I guess I’m glad to see you too. You look good too, I guess.”  
“Have 12 years tamed the fierce Oikawa Tooru that I knew?”  
“Excuse you I am still very much fierce and gorgeous and a successful human being. I accomplished things these past 12 years that you could hardly begin to imagine. Don’t belittle me by comparing me to the weak high school boy that you knew.”  
“I would never belittle you. I hold you in too high of a regard to do that.”  
A few beats went by and Oikawa found himself transfixed by the intensity of Ushijima’s gaze, “I’ve missed you.”  
“You missed me?” Oikawa could taste the disbelief.  
“Yes.”  
“If you missed me so much,” Oikawa lowered his voice; he was getting too worked up, “Then you shouldn’t have dumped like I was a bag of trash.”  
Ushijima’s eyebrows went up, “Is that how you felt? I had no idea. That wasn’t my intention. I read that a clear distinction of what to expect from one another was a standard practice in relationships.”  
Oikawa flapped a hand in front of Ushijima and looked around frantically.  
He fixed the other man with a furious look. “Don’t just broadcast that. What if someone hears?”  
“Would you prefer to continue in the privacy of my room? It’s on the first floor.”  
“Going to your room with you is a bad idea. Coming here was a bad idea. I should go, I’m going to go.”  
“You’ve not touched your drink.”  
“Not thirsty all of a sudden.”  
“I am. I’ve been thirsty for quite some time actually.”  
Oikawa gaped at him, “Was that…was that a joke?”  
Ushijima had the grace to look sheepish and nodded. A short giggle escaped Oikawa’s mouth before he could stop it, though it sounded more hysterical than elated.  
“Wow, well, 12 years have gone by. It’d be weird if you didn’t develop some kind of appreciation for humor, no matter how…interesting it is. But yeah need to go.”  
“If it’s urgent then by all means.”  
Oikawa felt his eyebrow go up, “I don’t get you.”  
“Pardon?”  
“You! I mean,” Oikawa lowered his voice and leaned across the table, “You dumped me and then after a decade, a literal decade, has gone by you just decide to call me up and see what I’m doing? I’m not your port girl, okay? You’re not someone who has girls in every port. That’s not me and that’s not you. I don’t know what you were trying to achieve here, but consider it a failure.”  
“I’ve never experienced failure, not in the conventional sense I suppose. The one time I felt what might be the closest thing to it is when we parted ways.”  
Oikawa rolled his eyes again, “Right, champion and all that.”  
“Olympian and all that.”  
“God, what is it with you? You think some banter and bickering will make me just—” He stopped talking abruptly.  
Their waitress had returned and asked if they wanted anything to eat. Oikawa refused to look away from Ushijima’s cup and heard him refuse politely. The Americano didn’t block the view of the waitress slipping Ushijima a piece of paper.  
“I need to go.”  
Oikawa rose from the table and slapped a few bills down before striding out to the lobby. He heard Ushijima’s soothing words and knew he’d settle the bill properly before leaving. That gave him more than enough time to catch another taxi or even make a mad dash for the subway.  
  
“Oikawa. Wait. Tooru!”  
That. Was. It. Oikawa walked into the hotel’s alleyway, knowing Ushijima would follow. He waited until they were a good ways in before turning back to face the hunkering idiot. All that came into his immediate vision was the tight purple sweater from earlier.  
“I’m sorry; perhaps the café was a bad idea. I had no idea the waitress would attempt something like that. I thought it was rather clear we were together and not to be disturbed.”  
“Just stop it.”  
“Pardon?”  
“You don’t just get to waltz back into my life and pretend 12 years haven’t gone by!”  
“I’m sorry.” Though it sounded like anything but, “I wasn’t aware that you’d be so upset. You were the one who told me not to contact you while I was away. In truth it was harder than I thought it would be.”  
“I told you not to contact me because we broke up!”  
“No we didn’t. We were on a break, you said so yourself, let’s take a break from this relationship. Do you know how difficult it was to accept such a condition? Breaks. What a ridiculous concept.”  
“Ushijima that means we’re done, over, finished, relationship no more.”  
The ‘Olympian and all that’ frowned, “I wasn’t aware that that’s what ‘taking a break’ meant. I’d always assumed that it meant we would take a literal break and would resume when the time was right.”  
Oikawa couldn’t help how his eyeballs rolled around in his head. Damn was the lunk thick and not in the fun way either. Okay, yes in the fun way, but that was neither here nor there and he was not going to think about sexy fun times in the middle of this stupid conversation, “Yeah, well there’re loads of idiots out there who don’t know that taking a break really means we’re breaking the fuck up.”  
“I’ve missed that mouth.”  
  
That cut Oikawa short. What could he say to that? They were just talking in circles now. Every time he would try and address the situation the conversation went lopsided. Tangents were one thing, but the way they got off-topic was borderline ridiculous. He opened his mouth and the only thing that came out was a faint rasp. The look in Ushijima’s eyes softened.  
“I’ve missed a lot more than your mouth. I’ve missed your presence on the court and how it excited me. I’ve missed our weekends and failed dates. Though to be fair I didn’t know they were dates at the time.” Ushijima hand twitched, like it wanted to out and hold him, “Maybe that’s why they failed.”  
“It doesn’t matter now, our past relationship. It was 12 years ago. A lot has changed since then.”  
“You’re still Oikawa Tooru, someone who captivated me 13 years ago and someone who has managed to somehow still ensnare me now.”  
“I’m dating someone. It’s serious, we’ve been together for ages, I care for him.” Oikawa took a deep breath, “I love him and he loves me. There’s no room for you in my life anymore.”  
“I see.”  
  
Was there a flash of hurt in his eyes? Did his voice seem a tad strained? His mouth was certainly affected by it given the tense pursing of his lips, but Oikawa didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t care if Ushijima was hurt by his words or found the situation unpleasant, maybe Mr. Volleyball should’ve thought about the outcome before diving in headfirst. But that was the thing about Ushijima; he was someone who lived by looking and moving forward. There was never the past only the future and how to improve on past mistakes. No wallowing for Ushijima Wakatoshi. Ushijima had lapsed into silence and it was deafening. He’d always had a knack for seeing through Oikawa, for seeing beyond the cutting words, and that had always been frightening. But his words were being analyzed through a 12 year filter. And just like with Oikawa’s memory of Ushiwaka’s laugh maybe Ushijima wouldn’t be able to remember how to see through all the bullshit.  
“I need to go. I have auditions later.”  
“Of course. I’ll be at the hotel through the end of the week.”  
  
A tiny droplet of dread slid through Oikawa’s intestines.  
  
“You’re leaving?”  
“No, I hope to be done finding permanent housing by then.”  
“You’re moving here?”  
God, maybe if the casting director’s saw the genuine shock that was definitely on his face right now they’d be more willing to cast him instead of sitting behind a table hmmmm-ing and ahhhhh-ing at his modeling background.  
“Yes. I don’t know if you saw, but I did an interview a few months ago,” Ushijima flushed, “It was nothing, really, but I talked about wanting to move back to Japan permanently.”  
  
Well of course Oikawa knew what interview Ushijima was talking about, but was he going to admit that? Hell no! So he just stood there and tried to look as unimpressed as possible, easy after all the years of Kise wailing about his sometimes boyfriend.  
“I see.”  
“I will occasionally be out of the country, training for the summer, but I will spend every free moment here in Tokyo.”  
“And where are you looking for housing?”  
“Where do you live?”  
“Right, like I’m going to tell you where I live.”  
“I could always call your company and find out. I’m sure the company president would love the articles and scandal that crop up after that.”  
“Did you just threaten me?”  
“I may have been gone for 12 years. I may not have been a part of your life as you were not a part of mine. But do not think that I will not fight for what we had and what we will have. You may have a boyfriend now, but I have more than enough confidence in myself.”

Oikawa stared at his personal phone, wondering if he should get a third phone. The first phone was business, the second was personal and the third was for love, at least, according to some people. He was waiting for the president to be done with the rest of his work so they could go get dinner. It was something of a tradition of theirs, every Sunday they would have dinner and discuss the company, its artists and the directions it should explore in the future. Sometimes Oikawa’s opinions made it into the official company decisions, but most times it was just so the president could prepare for the upcoming work week. The company workers called him the president’s work wife.  
“I heard Ushijima Wakatoshi was spotted in Tokyo the other day.”  
Oikawa tore his gaze away from his phone to star at his boss in amazement. “How did you know that? He literally just got back.”  
The president’s sharp glance had Oikawa cursing internally. Way to drop the ball moron. The president began folding a paper airplane from one of the files strewn all over his desk.  
“Don’t you need to sign that stack for your board meeting this Wednesday?”  
“The printer has more paper.”  
“The Earth has fewer trees.”  
The president’s hands worked tirelessly, fashioning a fancy looking paper airplane. He threw it at Oikawa.  
“Stop that.” He complained as he swatted the plane away.  
“You look like King Kong, swinging at my tiny airplanes.”  
“Oh shut up.”  
“Tooru.”  
“What?”  
“You went to see him, didn’t you? The day you cancelled everything after the R&R audition.”  
Oikawa hesitated, “I was feeling sick.”  
“You were feeling like wading through a bunch of bullshit, trying to look for a better excuse?”  
Oikawa sighed, even if Ushijima couldn’t call him on his bluffs anymore the president had more than enough filled that vacancy.  
“Alright, yes, I went to go see him. Does that make you happy?”  
“No.”  
“Then why did you ask?”  
“Why did you go see him?”  
“He called my personal phone!”  
“You haven’t changed your number in 12 years? Was it so he could contact you again?”  
  
That question stopped him cold. It was true; he hadn’t changed his number in 12 years. Why not? In fact, when his manager had said he’d gotten a phone call from Mr. Ushiwaka the thoughts running through his head weren’t ‘how did he call?’ or ‘why did he call?’ but ‘oh my god, he called’ and that was something he hadn’t considered.  
The president saw the lost look on Oikawa’s face and sighed. He got up from his desk and came over to where Oikawa was sitting on the couch.  
Leaning against the plush cushions the president looked over and made eye contact with Oikawa, he cracked a smile and a twinkle entered his eyes, “Come here often?”  
Oikawa groaned and shoved the older man away from him. “Too often now that I think about it.”  
“Not often enough if you ask me.”  
“When did you become such a lecher?”  
“Old age and the young hot thang I’m having an affair with might have had something to do with it.”  
Oikawa’s eyes softened, he ran his fingers through the president’s graying hair, “You’re not even that old.”  
“I could be your father.”  
“Daddy play, I thought you weren’t into that.”  
“Ah youth. How long will you hide behind your jokes and sarcasm?”  
“For as long as I can.”  
“And Ushijima Wakatoshi? How long will you hide behind me?”  
Oikawa’s hand faltered, he drew it back and hugged himself. “I’m not hiding behind you. I care for you, you know I do.”  
“Yes, but you care for him too.”  
“It’s been years, years! He left me; he’s the one who dumped me. If I’ve got any feelings left its resentment, anger, bitterness and how I feel like he’s mocking me when he’s being nothing but sincere.”  
“Why are you describing sex with my ex-wife?”  
Oikawa smacked the president on the shoulder, “See? You’re still young yet.”  
“Am I young enough to hold onto you though?”  
“Stop, I-I can’t have this conversation, not right now.”  
“Not ever apparently.”  
“One day, I promise, I swear, but not today.”  
“Okay, I can take someday over never. Come on; let’s go to dinner so I can complain about the board meeting on Wednesday that I totally forgot about until right now. Shit.”  
Oikawa laughed, he kissed the president on the cheek and pulled his coat back on.  
“It’s cold out, don’t forget your scarf.”  
“Yes Mother.”  
“We going back to daddy jokes?”  
“We are never going back to the daddy joke days. I still have nightmares.”  
Oikawa waited for the president by the door, his phone tucked into his coat pocket.  
“I’m getting a new phone.”  
“Oh?”  
“The third phone is for love, right?”  
“And who’ll be your elicit one number?”  
“Mmmm not sure, haven’t decided yet. I’m torn between this strapping company president and Iwa-chan.”  
The president groaned playfully as he wrapped his scarf around his neck, “It’s not enough that I have to compete Ushijima Wakatoshi, which in itself is daunting enough, but now the childhood friend has been thrown into the ring?”  
“Just to be completely fair, everyone always competes with Iwa-chan. Sorry!” Oikawa sang with a grin on his face.  
  
He reached for the doorknob, but the president’s hand landed over his, stopping him. He turned to look at his sometimes lover, a question forming on his lips, when the president swooped in, landing a quick kiss in his unguarded state.  
“What the heck!” Oikawa half-complained, pushing him away.  
The president laughed and opened the door, motioning for Oikawa to leave first, “After you, work wife.”

“We’ll call you with the details. Until then.”  
“Of course, have a nice weekend.”  
“You as well!”  
Oikawa and his manager bowed until the director left. They began gathering their things and headed for the exit. Ever since Shinjuku-gate, his manager had been keeping close to his side, going so far as jogging once a week to work up his endurance.  
“If the president finds out you ditched an entire work day because I couldn’t keep up again he’ll have my head!”  
  
Whatever it wasn’t like he was ever going to run off to see Ushijima again.  
  
Unless, Ushijima came to see him, but the likelihood of that happening was zero to none. Right? That wasn't Ushijima Wakatoshi standing outside the building, right? Standing there in another stupid tight sweater, a long coat and coiffed hair. Shit.  
His manager nudged him, "Isn't that the Olympian Ushijima Wakatoshi?"  
"Nope. Must be someone who looks like him. We have an audition after lunch, come on, I'm hungry."  
"But he's coming over here."  
  
NO HE WASN'T.  
  
"Oikawa, what a pleasant surprise."  
"Isn't it just?" He managed to force out of gritted teeth, "What are you doing here?"  
"I was looking at houses in the area at different real estate offices. Yourself?"  
Oikawa's manager piped up from beside him, glasses glinting with excitement, "We're returning from a meeting with the clothing brand F.E.E.D. It's an honor to meet you Ushijima-san!"  
"No, no the pleasure is mine. You must be Oikawa's manager. He's a dear old friend of mine, thank you for taking care of him all this time."  
"Oh it's my pleasure, sir! You know Oikawa-san lives around here!"  
"Is that so? What a happy coincidence, you must tell me more. Are you busy? Perhaps we could discuss more over lunch? My treat of course. I'd love to catch up with my old friend and hear about what he's been up to from someone who's very close to him."  
"We were just about to leave for lunch actually! I'm sure Oikawa-san doesn't mind, do you, Oikawa-san?"  
  
OF COURSE I MIND YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE.  
  
"Or course not." A groomed business smile forced it's way onto Oikawa's stiff face, "I'd love to have lunch and catch up, but maybe another time? We have a schedule to keep to after all."  
His manager scoffed, "Since when did you start caring about your schedule Oikawa-san. Let's go have lunch with Ushijima-san, I'm sure you have lots to catch up on. In fact, you should go just the two of you, I wouldn't want to be in the way of your reminiscing!"  
"No, no, we're super busy, remember? The auditions later today."  
His manager shot him a dark look, "You mean the auditions you ditched a few weeks ago to play hooky? Don't think I forgot about that!"  
Ushijima had been standing and watching their interactions with an amused look on his face, but his eyes sharpened at the last comment.  
"Oikawa, I didn't think you were that kind of person. Ditching a bunch of auditions to take the day off? Where did you go?"  
  
The smile on Ushijima's face threatened to split his face in half. Oikawa wanted to smack it off him.  
"So, lunch?"  
Oikawa's business smile returned, "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How long are you going to string me along for?"


	3. Beet and Artichoke Heart Salad

 Oikawa stared at the polished set of silverware sitting next to his plate. He could just barely make out the brown of his hair, the striped pattern of his dress shirt and the furious look in his eyes. Okay, he couldn’t really see that, but he didn’t need a reflective surface to know his eyes were set to kill, kill, kill mode. If he could singe off that full head of hair with just his eyes he'd be more than satisfied.  
“What will you be having?”

A conniption.

“Just water, thanks.”  
“Come now Oikawa, your manager had the good foresight to leave the two of us alone to catch up.”  
“Foresight. I’m amazed he can dress himself in the morning.”  
Ushijima peered at him over the top of the menu. He looked like he was smiling, but Oikawa couldn’t quite tell.  
“Not very nice of you.”  
“It wasn’t very nice of him to leave me alone with you, now was it?”  
“I don’t know I’m rather pleased by the outcome.”  
“I’m so sure,” Oikawa grumbled as he perused the salad section, “Also, what kind of beet and artichoke heart salad is $29? Actually a better question would be why is everything in US dollars? Isn’t this a French restaurant?”  
Ushijima chuckled, “It has French cuisine, but the owner is American and prefers things in his native currency.”  
He noticed the weird look on Oikawa’s face and smiled, “We’re friends.”  
Oikawa scowled, “So was this all a setup? Was bumping into me after my meeting actually an accident or did you plan that too?”

Stalker.

“I’m not a stalker, if that’s what you’re thinking. Today really was just a coincidence. Jean isn’t even in the kitchen today.”  
“And if _Jean_ were in the kitchen, what would have changed?”  
Ushijima put down his menu and cemented Oikawa in place with his stare, “I would ask him to close the restaurant, leave only two or three staff, dim the lights and have ambiance music, only his best dishes, the works really.”  
Oikawa forced himself to look back at his menu, aware that Ushijima’s gaze hadn’t averted he cleared his throat, “Weird details, must’ve had lots of practice abroad.”  
“I have an acceptable imagination and I’ve had more than enough time to hone the details.”  
Oikawa heard the smile in his voice, he didn’t know how, but he just knew there was a smile on that asshole’s face, “There’s more if you care to hear it.”  
“Right, yep, ready to order. Waiter!”  
A pretty boy came up to take their order, pushing his long blonde hair back with a free hand as he jotted down their order. Wasted in food service.  
“See something you like?”  
Oikawa looked back at his lunch companion, “No.”

They sat in silence until their waiter set down a bread basket and an oil mixture down in front of them. They both reached for the bread at the same time, their fingers colliding together.  
“Ow!”  
“Sorry. Please, after you.”  
It hadn’t hurt and there was no zing of electricity. Maybe his feelings for Ushijima really had disappeared. He looked at the earnest glow in Ushijima’s eyes and was hit with a pang of sadness, this idiot was trying so hard it hurt to look at him.  
“So,” Oikawa started as he dipped some bread into the oil, “Why are you looking for permanent housing if you’re not even going to be staying here full-time? Wouldn’t it just be better to look for housing after you officially retire?”  
By then his own lease would be up and he could move anywhere but near here, even though it was close to the company and only a ten minute walk to the station, plus his favorite convenience store was just  
around the corner from his apartment. They never took pictures of him or reported him to the tabloids when he bought ice cream and he gave them free products or merchandise, it was a fair trade.  
  
Ushijima dipped his bread into oil, “I like having somewhere to come home to when it’s all over and done with. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that’s mine.”  
“I mean it’ll only be a matter of time before people find out where you live.”  
“All that matters is that I have my privacy, peace and quiet, and solitude.”  
“So what’re you going to do? Work at a company? I can’t really see you doing that.”  
“I’m going to be a gardener.”  
“Huh?”  
  
That was the only intelligible thing that came out of Oikawa’s mouth. A what? A who?

“A gardener?”  
“Yes, I like plants.”  
“Gardening is for old, retired people! Oh. But surely you’ll need money? It’s not like you can eat two gold medals.”  
“I suppose the more technical term for it would be botanist.”  
Oikawa blinked, “A botanist.”  
“Is that so strange?”  
“Yeah! I mean, no offense, but I can’t really see you as a gardener. A CEO sure, but not a gardener.”  
“I can be very nurturing.”  
A giggle escaped before he could tamp it down firmly, “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”  
“It’s alright, I’ve been told it doesn’t match my image. Though I am curious, what is my image? Is it really so off-putting?”  
  
Oikawa masked the rest of his giggles by chewing on the rest of his bread.  
“Mmm not off-putting it’s just unexpected. You have this crazy intense presence, both on the court and off. It’s just a weird leap for some people to think the Olympic hero of Japan is rolling around in the dirt.”

The Olympic hero smiled as he reached for another piece of bread. Oikawa was maybe looking at the other man’s hand and was maybe trying to not remember how their hands had collided earlier. Trying to remember how he hadn’t felt a flutter, a zap of electricity, heat or anything. When they talked like this it almost tricked him into thinking they were back to where they’d been, before they went in different directions with their lives. But then he’d remember the zing-less touch of their hands and be thrown back into reality.  
“It’s always fun to roll around in the dirt with the right person.”  
“Gotten kinkier over the years, haven’t we?”  
“I’d love to find out.”  
“Stop that. I told you already, I have a boyfriend.”  
“And I told you already that I don’t care.”  
“Never pegged you as a homewrecker.”  
“I’m not. I won’t take you from him; you’ll come to me and of your own accord.”

Oikawa frowned at him, contemplating flinging the rest of the bread basket at his oversized head. Given those Olympic qualities he’d probably dodge each flying carb.  
“Let’s just try to get through this lunch without tearing each other apart.”  
“Very well, but just know that I’m serious.”

Seriously deluded, Oikawa thought as he spotted their entrees coming.

They continued to talk about nonsensical things: the weather abroad, the grueling training sessions, the unexpectedly harsh expectations of casting and how different it was from modeling. Ushijima laughed at Oikawa’s impressions and other skills that he performed on various shows and Oikawa snorted as Ushijima mock-complained about the lack of real competition on the court. It was as close to normal as the two of them could muster and every time Oikawa felt himself drifting into the pull of their past he reminded himself of their hands. He just needed to remember their hands and he wouldn’t be seduced by the great and blinding Ushijima again.

“You manager tells me you two ran into Ushijima Wakatoshi earlier today.”  
Oikawa scrolled through his profile, wondering if it was too soon to post a vague F.E.E.D. promotional picture, “Wow, it’s like someone’s watching my every move.”  
“That’s because someone is. You know your little encounter is already on half of my blogs. Plus I got a few calls from reporters saying they were going to publish something in time for the evening edition.”  
“What do you want me to say? It’s not like I chose this life, remember? You’re the one who found me.”  
The president sighed angrily, “And does that mean I have to watch my hand-picked star dirty himself with his previous lover?”  
“It was just lunch! A business lunch.” Oikawa snapped at him from the couch by the door.  
“Oh? What sort of business negotiations does a model turned actor have with a former Olympian?”  
“We barely talked to each other. He tried making conversation and I didn’t, simple as that. All we talked about in depth were the Olympics and what he plans to do training-wise. Honestly, it was an interview more than anything. See? Business.”

The president sighed again; he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t looked this tired in ages, not since the day he and his wife divorced. Oikawa suddenly felt concern.  
“I swear, it was only business.”  
Oikawa got up to stand in front of the president’s desk. The president watched with tired eyes. He felt like he was in the principal’s office.  
“The blogs are all probably saying it was just a casual lunch between two old friends. We were playing catch up; at least that’s what my idiot manager thought we were doing.”  
“Sure, that’s what the blogs might be saying and that might even be what’s on the evening edition, but we both know that’s not what it was.”  
“I don’t know where you’re getting this _we_ business from. I’ve made my position very clear. Business only.”  
“By “we” I mean me and Ushijima Wakatoshi. I know it wasn’t just business and so does he.”  
“What so it doesn’t matter what I think? I was actually there!" Oikawa couldn't help the way his arms flung themselves apart, "Don’t you think I’d know best if it was anything other than business or catching up with an old friend? Do you really think I’d let it go anywhere beyond that?”  
“Not knowingly. Oikawa,” The president hesitated, “Tooru, you’ve always had a blind spot for him. I know about the stacks and stacks of magazines all hidden in your apartment. I know that you sneak them home or outright steal them from the salon. They’re all about him. You say you don’t care for him anymore that it was 12 years ago and your feelings faded long before you knew the years had gone by. Tell me. Are these the actions of someone whose feelings have died?”

Oikawa started gesticulating wildly, “My feelings have totally died. You’re blowing this out of proportion. It was just lunch. It was a coincidence, he told me so.”  
The president looked him in the eyes, “You believe him?”  
“He doesn’t have a reason to lie to me, not about that.”  
“Why not?”  
“What do you mean?”  
The president stood up as well, placing his glasses back on. He walked around to face Oikawa, “From what you’ve told me and what I know about Ushijima Wakatoshi is that he’s a driven and ambitious man. You think that just because you told him some lie about having a lover that he’ll give up on you? I know men like him; they don’t give up on what they want.”  
“I’m not going to just bend over and do his bidding.”  
The president reached over and cupped Oikawa’s face, “That’s just the thing, my darling, you won’t even realize that you’re bending over until you see the upside down world behind you.”  
Oikawa pushed the president’s hand away, “How can you have so little faith in me? If I say nothing happened you should believe me! You’re my boyfriend aren’t you?”  
The president’s eyes sharpened, “Am I only your significant other when the situation is convenient for you? What about my feelings? Even if it was just a lunch, and I know it wasn’t, how do you think I felt when I heard about it from your manager? Were you going to tell me?”  
Oikawa returned to the flailing, “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal! It’s nothing!”  
“It is something!”

Oikawa stopped, startled, the president never yelled at him. Even when he had been a rambunctious newbie he’d never been yelled at by the president. The older man sighed; he leaned against his desk and rubbed his face.  
“If I had dinner with my ex-wife and you found out online would you be upset?”  
“But this wasn’t dinner, it was just a lunch. A lunch between friends.”  
“If I met with my ex-wife and didn’t tell you about it how would you feel?”  
“I don’t know! Upset? Angry? But that’s what’s different about our situations. You can and should go see your ex-wife and not feel the need to report back to me all the time. It’s not up to me to decide whether or not you can see her. It’s not like we’re—”  
  
Oikawa covered his mouth, but the damage was done.  
  
The president looked at him with sad, resigned eyes, “It’s not like we’re what? Together? It’s okay, say it. We’re not together. It’s true.”  
Oikawa felt tears starting to gather in his eyes. No! This isn’t what he wanted. That wasn’t what he meant!  
“We are! We occasionally are. And I see why that confuses you, but it confuses me too! I care about you.”  
“I love you.”

Oikawa felt like the president had stabbed him in the lungs, all the air in his body left him. The president smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He put his glasses down on his desk.  
“Is it so strange to hear that I love you? I do. But you don’t love me.”  
  
That’s not true. Oikawa wanted to scream it at him, wanted the world to hear that it wasn’t true, but nothing came out. The president looked at him with a serious expression, the corners of his mouth downturned and the light in his eyes dead.  
“How long are you going to string me along for?”

The words continued to not come out of Oikawa’s mouth. What could he do now? What could he say? He picked up his phone and left the president’s office quietly.

The president rubbed his eyes, if he felt some moisture it was simply because he was old. He looked back at his computer screen, at the picture of Oikawa laughing and the absolute adoring way Ushijima looked at him. He turned his screen off and told his secretary he was taking the afternoon off.

 

Oikawa finished the rest of his meetings, but he could tell his manager knew something was wrong. After their last meeting was finished his manager gently offered him a ride home and Oikawa nodded. In the car he scrolled through the seemingly endless articles on his lunch date with Ushijima. He saw the pictures in the beautiful restaurant, the smiles and the laughter and he knew.  
He dimly registered the goodbye, the elevator’s slow trek, the key turning in his lock and none of it really made sense to him anymore. Sitting on his couch Oikawa looked at the sports magazine with the mystery fiancée. The magazine he’d stolen before all this had happened. Ushijima coming back, the president’s rising jealousy and Oikawa’s own ineptitude.

He’d pulled out his phone and began punching in a number he knew by heart before realizing what was happening until someone picked up.

“Hello?”  
Oikawa’s mouth opened to let the words waiting inside rush out; it was better than letting out the tears waiting on standby in his eyes.  
“I think…I think I just got dumped.”  
“You were dating someone?”  
“Iwa-chan!”  
“What? It’s not like you see a lot of action in that department.”  
“I see plenty of action thank you very much.”  
“Then what’s the issue? Why do you sound so upset over being dumped if you see plenty of action?”  
“The president, he dumped me.”  
“Your scout? No way. That guy is head over heels in love with you. He scouted you.”

There was a long bout of silence on the other end.  
  
“What did you do?”  
“Why do you always assume it’s me?”  
“Because it’s always you.”  
Oikawa sighed angrily, “Well not this time!”  
“Right.”  
“Iwa-chan!”  
“Anyway I’m glad you called. I’m getting married.”  
Oikawa almost choked, “What?”  
He could almost see Iwa-chan’s nonchalant shrug, “In the spring.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me the second you proposed? No, why didn’t you tell me that you were even thinking about marriage! Iwa-chan!”  
“You’re a busy guy and you’ve only met her twice.”  
“That means nothing! You’re my best friend I would’ve done any crazy hare-brained scheme you thought up!”  
He heard a scoff on the other end, “That’s precisely why I didn’t tell you beforehand. You’re the one with all the crazy schemes.”  
“Okay how was I supposed to know that the cow would eat that?”  
“It was made out of ice cream.”  
“Yeah and ice cream is dairy and dairy comes from cows, wouldn’t that be like a chicken eating an omelet?”  
“No, not at all. Anyway I want you to be my best man.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course, who else would I ask? Kageyama?”  
“Uh no! Wow,” Oikawa took a breath, letting it sink in a little, “I’m honored, Iwa-chan. Thank you.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“I knew you loved me!”  
“Don’t be weird.”  
“I know you love me, I know you care.”  
“Yeah, yeah whatever.”  
“Just shout whenever and I’ll be—”  
“Stop that.”   
He could practically see Iwa-chan’s perma-frown.  
“You don’t love the Canadian wonder boy?”  
“He makes okay music.”  
“Uh he makes awesome music.”  
“You go to one event where he happens to be performing and all of a sudden you’re a, what are they called? Believers?”  
“So close, Iwa-chan! You do pay attention when I talk.”  
“Someone has to.”

Oikawa almost felt better. Almost.  
  
“Hey! Not nice.”  
“I’m the nicest person you’ll ever meet.” There was some silence on the other end before Iwaizumi spoke again, “I heard he’s back in Tokyo. You saw him.”  
“Saw who?”  
“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’re smarter than the tabloids and casting directors give you credit for.”  
“God those casting directors! What they’ve never heard of a model making a switch into acting?”  
“Never any good ones. Other than Kise Ryota I guess.”  
“I’m just as, if not more, amazing thank you very much.”  
“Amazing at avoiding questions.”  
“No I’m not.”  
“Then why aren’t you answering me about Ushijima?”  
“La La La! Don’t say his name!”  
Iwaizumi sighed, “Should’ve known _that_ bad habit would act up again.”  
“What bad habit?”  
“It’s like being a first year in college all over again. You would do _that_ every time I brought him up.”  
“I keep you young.” Oikawa crowed.  
“You give me premature white hairs and frown lines.”  
“But you love me.”  
“Yes, jeez, is that what you wanted to hear?”  
“I can die a happy man.”  
“Did you get dumped because you went on a date with Ushijima?”  
Oikawa deflated, “I can’t die happy anymore.”  
“Well?”  
“It wasn’t a date!”  
Another sigh, “Okay let me put this into perspective for you.”  
Oikawa crossed his arms, “I don’t need perspective-ing I need answers!”  
“Get that constipated look off your face and un-cross your arms. Now, imagine if we were dating in our uni years.”  
“Oh man it’s like being in my middle school wet dreams all over again.”  
“Shut it. And before we started dating I had a girlfriend.”  
“You did have a girlfriend, Ami-chan, big boobs and a tiny brain.”  
“So we’re dating happily, but all of a sudden Ami transferred to our school and I start spending a lot more time with her without telling your or telling you after the fact.”  
“Okay, I’d be a little jealous.”

There was silence on the other end. Oikawa caved.  
  
“Okay! I’d be super jealous! But just so you know even if we weren’t dating I’d be super jealous.”  
“Do you see my point?”  
Oikawa examined his nails in an attempt to feign innocence, “Nope.”  
Iwaizumi scoffed, “Okay what if you went to your seminar and everyone in your class was talking about the date Ami and I went on? We went to a nice café around lunchtime and talked and laughed and ate together.”  
He bit his lip, “Fuck I’d be beyond jealous.”  
“And when you confronted me on it I told you it was just a lunch between two old friends.”  
“But you guys dated.”  
“And now you see my point.”  
“I want to say no, but I know I can’t.”  
“If you can’t differentiate between business and pleasure anymore you should leave. Besides isn’t your contract ending next year?”  
“In June.”  
“Maybe it’s time to explore different companies. You’ve been there for too long. You’re still getting offers, right?”  
“Of course I am. Who do you think I am?”  
Iwaizumi gave a short bark of laughter.  
“Shittykawa Tooru, the king of the court.”  
“Excuse you, the Grand King.”  
“Grand King of the Bullshitticus Empire.”  
Oikawa felt a lump in his throat as more tears welled in his eyes, “Thank you, Iwa-chan, for always being there for me and listening to my problems and accepting me and never judging me too harshly.”  
“I feel like I judge you way more critically than other people.”  
“That’s probably why I take criticisms so well. I’ve had you my whole life.”  
“Why’re you getting emotional for Shittykawa?”  
“It kinda just hit me I guess. You’re getting married. Everything changes now.”  
There was a pause on the end before Iwaizumi continued in a soft voice, “Yeah, it does. Maybe our friendship dynamic might change, but you’re still my best friend, my childhood friend and my partner. You’re still important to me you just have to take a back seat now.”  
  
Oikawa smiled and he hated the way it pushed tears out his eyes.  
“I don’t like second place.”  
“Then you should find someone whose first priority is you.”  
“What if I just lost that someone because of some stupid ghost from my past?”  
“Your ghost is what’s making you waver. If you truly loved your scouter, wanted to be with him forever, then you wouldn’t have even given that ghost the time of day. You’d ignore everything, change your number, _move_ if you needed to because you already had your number one. But you didn’t even attempt to _try_ any of that. You went on a lunch date with this ghost, you went and saw him secretly and ditched work. You might have lost your scout whose priority number one is you, but if your number one is someone else then it isn’t fair to him. And you know that. You’re just afraid to let go of him.”  
“I’m not afraid of letting go I’m afraid of losing him. I don’t even have that right.”  
“You cared about him, you still do, but you don’t love him.”  
Oikawa swallowed, wiped his tears and cleared his throat, “No,” He said softly, “I don’t love him. I thought I did.”  
“That’s why you were so confused all these years that’s why you lead him on without meaning to. Apologize to him and tell him you’re thinking of switching companies, but that it’s not because of him. Make that clear. You’ll hurt him, but it’s better this way.”  
“Just cause you’re getting married you suddenly became a wizard of relationship problems?”  
“If I was a real wizard I’d shrink you and stuff you into a glass jar, so you wouldn’t be able to mess around anymore.”  
“Not nice!”  
“You love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Why don’t you call me Ushiwaka anymore?”  
> “Because Ushiwaka meant something to me, Ushijima doesn’t.”  
> “I want to mean something to you again, will you let me?”


	4. A Box of Tissues

Oikawa hung up the phone after making Iwa-chan promise to keep him in the loop on all the wedding details and preparations. He feels almost back to normal, giddily basking in the promise of his friend’s future.  All too soon Iwa-chan’s words come back to annoy him. Tell the president he was leaving him? Both professionally and intimately? Slay the guy like a dragon instead! Damn. But if Iwa-chan’s track record of pulling Oikawa out of trouble was anything to go by then he was more or less 100% right this time too. How would he tell the president? How could he tell the other man that he was leaving him in every sense of the word, but that it wasn’t because of Ushijima? Was that even possible at this point?  
As Oikawa was contemplating his pros and cons his phone lit up. It was from the president. Well, now was as good a time as any wasn’t it? Sucking in a deep breath Oikawa opened his phone and his heart plummeted.  
_Something’s come up. Can’t make it to dinner tonight._

 It’s then he remembers that it’s Sunday.  
  
No matter how busy the other was they’d always made time for Sunday dinner because it was more than a dinner to them. Sunday dinner, their weekly tradition, their standing date. It’s then he realizes that their relationship, whatever it had been and whatever it could have been, had ended with one clear-cut text. He breaks down and cries. This wasn’t how he wanted to end things; this wasn’t how he wanted things to end.  
His phone vibrates again, but instead of pushing the cancellation text aside it dings with the arrival of a new message.  
  
_I’d like to see you, is that all right with you?_  
  
Oikawa stares at the text on his phone. He stares and stares and stares some more before searching through his contacts for Ushijima’s number. A number that hadn’t changed in 13 years. A number that hadn’t changed since the day he’d given it to Oikawa one summer day in their last year of high school. A number that he knew by heart after he’d typed it out manually each time he called Ushijima, pretending that it was just stubbornness that made him want to memorize it.  
The line rang twice before it picked up.

“Hello?”  
“Come find me.”  
Before the other end could respond Oikawa hung up. He walked out of his apartment, trekked the many blocks to his destination and, somewhere at the back of his mind, relished the caress of air-conditioning as he sat down on a nearby couch. He placed his phone on the table beside him and sagged into the couch as he stared out at the moving night scenery.

“Oikawa.”  
He looked up and saw Ushijima’s concerned gaze. It wasn’t obvious to the uninitiated. The furrowing of the brow, the slight frown that differed from the usual frown that sat on his face, but most of all the eyes, it was the eyes that gave away the stupid giant’s concern. Oikawa found that he was glad that that hadn’t changed and that it had remained untouched by the 12 year filter of nostalgia.  
“Ushiwaka-chan.”

The concern in Ushijima’s eyes battled with fondness.  
“Are you alright?”  
“How did you find me?”  
Ushijima sat at the couch next to him, picked up his hand and gingerly brushed his cheek.  
“You told me to come and find you; this was the only place I could think of. What’s wrong? What is it?”

Oikawa felt the snort in his throat, but it never quite made past his lips. He should be happy, he should be, that Ushijima would come all this way to find him. But at the same time Oikawa was filled with an unexplainable anger. He felt the ugly emotion well up inside of him and couldn’t stop the words that were waiting to tumble out of him. But what spilled over first wasn’t his anger or the cutting words that sat waiting, it was tears. They fell from his eyes in an unbidden fashion that was so unlike the beautiful, confident Oikawa that Ushijima was familiar with that he panicked.  
In perhaps the only insistence of clumsiness the Olympian had ever exhibited he fumbled around in his jacket for a handkerchief. When he couldn’t find one he rushed to brush the tears from Oikawa’s face. Maybe there was no sizzling spark of chemistry, maybe he leaned into the touch a little bit, maybe he didn’t really care that the electricity of their youth hadn’t carried over into the present, it was comforting and that was all he wanted right now.

Ushijima’s hand stilled and as Oikawa looked at him he saw the other man come to a decision. It was in the set of his shoulders, the firmness in his eyes. Ushijima pulled Oikawa to his feet and lead them over to the ticket counter. He requested a room for the night. The manager, an older man, hands them a keycard and a box of tissues with a gentle smile.  
They make it to the room, through a tense elevator ride and shying away from curious looks and a stray cellphone lens, before Oikawa burst. Ushijima had barely closed the door behind them when Oikawa threw his supporting arm off and leaned against the wall. Collapsed might have been a better word for it. As Ushijima reached over again Oikawa lashed out, slapping his supporting hands away.

“Don’t touch me.”  
“Will you tell me what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this.”  
“You! You’re what’s wrong! Ever since you came back my life has been a wreck. Why did you have to come back? Why now? Everything was just fine without you!”

Ushijima’s eyes were unreadable, only a flicker of hurt flashed through them.  
“That was never my intention. I’m—”  
“Don’t,” Oikawa spat, “Say you’re sorry. That doesn’t mean anything now. I got dumped. He broke up with me because of you. He loved me. He was a good man and I hurt him because you came back into my life.”  
“The ending of your relationship was always my goal; I will not apologize for it. But I am sorry for any,” Ushijima hesitated, “Discomfort it may have caused you. Again, that was never my intention.”  
“What so you just thought my lover would leave me because you showed up again?” Oikawa struggled back up the wall, “Or that I would leave him? How goddamn selfish, how conceited are you? What the hell is the matter with you? Am I just some game for you? Well congratulations! He left me. You won your little game. Can’t stand to lose even if it means ruining someone else’s life, huh?”  
“I will listen to anything you have to say, accept every insult thrown and not say a word. If it helps you I’ll do it, but I won’t leave you, not ever again.”  
His arms would have been flailing at this point, but he could only manage an accusing finger, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a stalker, a genuine stalker! I could report you and even with the glaring lack of evidence they’d side with me. Everyone would side with me.”  
“As they should.”  
This time his arms managed a feeble attempt heavenward, “Are you masochistic? Do you hear what I’m saying? If anyone knew everything about this, this _relationship_ , for lack of a better word, it would destroy your reputation and your career. Any hope you have for the future would be gone. I could ruin you. Doesn’t that scare you?”  
“If that’s what it takes for you to look at me then I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”  
“What on earth makes you think I would go back to you after all this?”

Ushijima stood up straight, he crossed the short distance between them and caged Oikawa into the wall with nothing but his presence. There was something dark in his movements, the hardening of his eyes foreshadowing it.  
“Because I know that that man was never your boyfriend. He might have been your lover occasionally, you might have even had feelings for him, but they were never anything more than fondness. I know you, Oikawa Tooru, and though 12 years may have gone by I still know that you’re a terrible liar in front of me.”  
“That’s not true! I loved him very much.”  
“Already you talk of him in the past tense. If you loved him, if you refused to give up on your relationship because of me, then you would say that you love him, even now, especially now.”  
“I do.”  
  
A strange smile drew itself onto Ushijima’s face.  
“Those are words I’ve dreamed of you saying, though not in this context.”  
Oikawa stilled and Ushijima took advantage of the silence to pounce. He gathered up Oikawa’s hand in his own and leaned even further in.  
“I love you, I don’t know what it will take for you to realize your false feelings towards that man, but I want to be here for you. Depend on me. Trust me. Fall in love with me again.”  
“Look, Ushijima, we’re not going to work, we already proved that.”  
“Why don’t you call me Ushiwaka anymore?” He asked as Oikawa shook off his hands.  
“Other than the glaringly obvious facts?”  
“Besides our one-sided breakup, yes.”  
“Because,” Oikawa folded his hands over his chest, hoping it might push the other man away. It didn’t, “Ushiwaka meant something to me, Ushijima doesn’t.”  
Ushijima’s eyes softened, “I want to mean something to you again, will you let me?”  
“You meant something to me a long time ago. We’re not those people anymore.”  
The Olympian allowed Oikawa to push him back a few paces, “Indeed we are not; we are two different people now as we should be. When I said fall in love with me again, I didn’t mean the me of 12 years ago, I meant me of right now. Re-fall in love with me I suppose.”  
“Do I need to point out how incredibly ridiculous you sound or do you hear it?”

Ushijima convinced Oikawa to sit down on the reclining sofa facing the window. He’d lead the two of them over to it and let Oikawa sit wherever he pleased. The bed was too foreign and too familiar a territory for them to sit on it comfortably. He ordered room service and they filled themselves with fresh fruits and quenched their thirst with the minibar’s water bottles.

“Those things are godawful expensive.”  
“Money is a small thing.”  
“Wow, spoken like someone who’s never worried about money in their entire life.”  
“I don’t mean that it has no value I mean that it is a small price to pay for this moment I can have with you.”  
“God when did you become so, so mushy?”  
“I like to think that all the training for the Olympics have kept me in rather good physical condition.”

God.

Oikawa gave Ushijima a proper once over. No shying away, no furtive glances, just a full-on, unflinching, scrutinizing gaze. His hair was darker, his eyes were older, there was the promise of devastating furrows forming along his brow and he hadn’t shaved. Ushijima looked older. And of course he did, 13 years had gone by since they’d first met each other through volleyball. Volleyball had brought them together and had ultimately been the thing that drove them apart.  
Still, he’d filled out immensely since their first year semester in college. Well, that was a given since Ushijima had started training for the Olympics not long after they broke up. He really was in good physical condition, but then again that was something he’d always known. There were stacks of magazines in his closet and late-night memories to prove it.

He watched his hand, as if it weren’t his own, reach up and trace Ushijima’s shoulder. It drew a line from where his shirt exposed a collarbone to his very much clothed shoulder. The much bigger man shivered when Oikawa’s finger skirted across his skin, if only for a moment. He caught Oikawa’s hand as it was returning. Oikawa debated tugging it out of his hand, but he was too tired for that.  
  
He felt his eyes crinkle as a small smile formed, “Sorry, don’t know what came over me.”  
Ushijima’s eyes were unreadable for once, “What were you thinking?”  
“You really are fit.”  
“I was always fit.”  
“You were always an asshole.”  
“Not always.”  
“Usually then.”  
“I like to think I was perfectly gentlemanly with you.”  
“You would make me wait in a hotel lobby forever while I was waiting for you to show up.”  
“You would have practice or I would, but it’s not so strange to be waiting for someone in a hotel lobby, is it?”  
“It’s funny.”  
“Is it?”  
“No, not that. In all that time, all those times I waited for you in the lobby or you waited for me, I’ve never been in one of the rooms. We’ve never been. Isn’t that weird?”  
“Not at all.”  
Oikawa pulled his hand away, expecting resistance and finding none. “Why not?”  
“It would imply that you’ve seen the inside of these rooms with someone else and that is unacceptable.”

Ushijima’s eyes narrowed. It was something he did when he was jealous, which, considering Oikawa’s outrageous popularity, was a common sight. Oikawa felt a smirk work its way onto his face.  
“Don’t think I would bring an illicit lover back here?” He dragged a teasing hand down Ushijima’s arm, “It’s rather close to the subway station and I have worked in the area before.”  
“You would never bring someone here. Not because we have memories here, but because you would never expose such a vulnerable time in your life to someone else, even if they didn’t know what it meant to you.”  
Oikawa pulled his hand back, no longer in a teasing mood, “If you know me so well then why did you leave me so easily 12 years ago?”  
“It was not easy. It was, and still is, the most difficult decision I’ve made.”  
“Then why did you make it? Didn’t you love me?”  
“I did. Did you?”  
“I did.”  
“And now we’re different people.”  
“Have your feelings changed?”  
“I think of our past together with great fondness.”  
Oikawa shook his head, “You didn’t answer my question.”  
“Everything changes, even my feelings for you.”  
“Oh.”

Oikawa started to get up from the sofa, but the other occupant pulled him back down and into a mess of limbs.  
“If anything they may have centupled. My feelings for you that is.”

They were so close, closer than they’d been in a long time. Pushing past the heat on his face Oikawa looked at Ushijima once more. There were frown lines starting to form around his eyes, his mouth, nothing a good cream and diligence wouldn’t fix. He pushed away, but found Ushijima’s hands on his waist. He put both hands on the other man’s shoulders with the intent of pushing him away, but found that they decided to stay there and not move. He found himself leaning in, his hands sliding over the ridiculous shoulders, his body curving to fit the mold of another man’s embrace. He found himself kissing Ushijima Wakatoshi.  
  
He felt a shudder run through him as Ushijima groaned and kissed back. Their kiss grew longer and when they broke for air they stared at one another before something overtook them. Oikawa let Ushijima move him into a more comfortable position and could feel every rock solid inch of the Olympian’s body as he pressed him into the sofa. God, what was it with him and reclining furniture?  
  
He let Ushijima explore his mouth with all the curiosity of someone who’d not for a long time. Oikawa felt his hands roam and clutch at Ushijima’s back and lost himself in the heat of their kiss until he realized that he was touching flesh and not cloth. Ushijima pulled away, kneeling over Oikawa. They were both panting and Oikawa still has his hands on Ushijima’s body, they started to dip past his hips and towards other places when Ushijima’s hands came over his.  
“We are not doing this.”  
“What the damn hell? This is the part where you take off your shirt and I appreciate those muscles with my tongue.”

Ushijima shook his head; he eased his way off the sofa and onto the glass coffee table beside it. Oikawa watched him go and tried to count to a number that didn’t make him want to kill the idiot. He didn’t get very far.  
“This is misplaced desire. Our relationship ended because we could not communicate properly and that is something we must fix. Before we do something that causes more confusion you need to sort your own feelings out first. You need to want me because it’s me and not because I’m here right now.”  
Oikawa pushed himself up so he could be more at eye level with the idiot, “What are you trying to say? That any warm body would work? Do you think I’m some whore?”  
Ushijima leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as his eyes bore holes into Oikawa, “No, but you crave comfort. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and think that this is a mistake. I want you to wake up and relish it and revel in it, not regret it.”  
“I’m regretting calling you out.”  
“I’m glad you did. I want us to start fresh. Start over in a way. Start right. Start by being friends first.”  
Oikawa gestured with his head, “You want to be friends after what almost just happened?”  
“Our relationship was a victim of miscommunication. That will never happen again, I won’t lose you a second time due to something as simple as human error.”  
“Finally admitting you’re human?”  
Ushijima smiled, “I have my moments.”

Oikawa bit his lip. He weighed the pros and cons before settling on who gives a fuck anymore. He slumped back into the couch and tried to keep his eyes away from the tantalizing muscles that peeked out from under Ushijima’s hemline.  
“I hate you.”  
Ushijima just smiled wider if that was possible. Oikawa stood abruptly, no longer trusting himself to be not a hoe.  
“I’m going home.”  
“You should stay the night; I’ve already paid for the room.”  
“Money is a small thing, remember? Besides I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  
“If you feel uncomfortable then I’ll leave, but it might take me some time to get home from here since the last train has left already. There are two beds in this room. If you truly feel uncomfortable I’ll sleep on the couch, but I don’t want you to be alone.”  
He was quiet for a moment before speaking quietly, “And I’d like to spend as much time with you as possible before we part in the morning even if there’s an entire room’s worth of space between us.”

Well, he’d already decided on who gives a fuck anymore.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
  
Later, with Oikawa in one bed and Ushijima in the other, they listened to the sounds of the Shibuya nightlife, muted as it was through their seventh story window. The sounds of traffic and the occasional raucous laughter made its way up to them.

“You know,” Oikawa ventured as he watched shadows flash along the ceiling, “There’s going to be a bunch of news articles in the morning when we wake up.”  
“Oh really?”  
“Yeah while you were being all jungle warrior-y on our way up here I’m pretty sure a couple people took  pictures. Pretty sure all the gossip blogs know and by morning it’ll have hit the mainstream news outlets.”  
“Shame we can’t tell them to politely fuck off.”

Oikawa had been closing his eyes when they snapped open. He looked over at his roommate.  
“Ushiwaka-chan!”  
“You were thinking it.”  
“No, I was thinking of what to do with the fallout!”  
“But also about saying fuck off in a nice way.”  
“Shut up.”  
  
  
It’s almost eight am when Oikawa shakes off the last vestiges of sleep. He stares up at the bright ceiling, no longer marred by last night’s dancing shadows.  
“I’ve ordered room service, it should be here momentarily. Do you have work?”  
“No, on Sundays the president would always schedule my work in the afternoons.”  
“How thoughtful.” A pause. “He’s the one who scouted you.”  
  
It wasn’t phrased like a question, but he felt compelled to answer.  
“Yeah,” Oikawa replied as he squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush, “Years ago.”  
“You must be close.”  
“He was an admirable person, still is.”  
Oikawa decided to ignore Ushijima as best he could and furiously scrubbed at his teeth.  
“I suppose you have always been attracted to power.”  
Oikawa spat out his toothpaste, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
“You often spent your Sundays with that man?”  
He rinsed and stormed out of the bathroom to point a finger at Ushijima and was surprised to find him right in front of the door. He backed up a few steps to properly jab a finger into Ushijima’s chest, “You didn’t answer my question.”  
“I didn’t feel the need to. You didn’t answer mine.”  
“Listen up, Muscles Magoo, if this whole friendship thing is going to work out then you need to not ignore my questions when you’re doing something hinky.”  
“I am a tad bit jealous; I apologize if it came off as rude.”  
“Jealous? Of what? What is there to be jealous of?”  
“The president, he was your lover, was he not?”

A knock and a jaunty ‘room service!’ came from the door. Ushijima opened the door and a young man rolled in a covered cart, he quickly set up their breakfast and left. Oikawa had not moved from his spot leaning against the bathroom’s door frame and watched the worker leave with an anxious heart.

DON’T LEAVE ME HERE WITH HIM WHEN THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET REAL.

Ushijima looked at the immaculate breakfast setup and glanced over at Oikawa still hovering in the doorway. He cocked an eyebrow.  
“You still like waffles?”  
Oikawa stepped out with an awkward two steps and fiddled with his hands, “Uh yeah.”  
“We’ll talk later,” He motioned at him, “I wouldn’t want to discuss such a heavy topic on an empty stomach.”

YOU EXPECT ME TO EAT RIGHT NOW WHEN LITERALLY EVERY ORGAN INSIDE ME IS RIPPING APART, SCREAMING AND DYING?

“Could we talk first?”  
“You dated your company president. He holds sentimental value as well as power. As I stated earlier you are attracted to power, it’s in your history.”  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. By history you don’t mean yourself, right?”  
“Of course I do, who else is there?”  
“You think so highly of yourself, you dick.”  
“What isn’t there to think highly of?”  
“Communication skills.”  
“A skill I hope to curate with you in our newly formed friendship."  
Oikawa sat down and stabbed a strawberry on top of the golden stack of waffles, "Yay for fucking friendship."  
  
He was too busy fuming to notice the smile that curved onto Ushijima's face.

 

Oikawa flopped down onto his bed, tired after a long day of running around to a bunch of different meetings with his manager. As his contract was nearing its expiration date fewer and fewer people were willing to work with him. After all, who wanted to pay a company to use someone the company wouldn’t even have in a couple of months? Especially when that couple of months was when the advertisement would be out in public and in full effect? Instead of pitching jobs, the people he met would try to pitch him different companies, trying to ensnare the next Kise Ryouta or so the gossip blogs would say. The increasing lack of work was upsetting.

The increasing lack of work was upsetting. His weekend was both tantalizingly and infuriatingly free. Sure, he hadn’t had a full weekend off in ages, but it was because he wasn’t getting work and that was frustrating. This was his prime! What was he going to do for almost three whole days?

His phone chimed from the pile of discarded clothes somewhere near the door. He groaned into his blanket and trudged over to find the stupid piece of technology, secretly welcoming the intrusion.  
_from Muscles Magoo_  
_Are you free this weekend?_  
_Yes_  
_Would you be interested in coming to see my volleyball practice?_  
_YES_  
Maybe he could sneak away for a bit and get some stress management in. What better way to relieve the mounting pressure than to smack a few balls around? Speaking of ball smacking…Oikawa hesitated, but thought fuck it, nothing ventured was nothing gained.  
_What are you doing right now?_  
_I've just gotten home from a meeting with my teammates and our coach. Why?_  
_I'm bored. We're friends now let's go play._  
_Volleyball?_  
_No you idiot! I’m hungry ;)_  
_Have you eaten dinner?_  
_Nope._  
_Would you like to eat dinner together?_  
_Awwww Ushijima-chan I thought you'd never ask! Meet me at the restaurant I text you.  
_ He fired off a link to one of his favorite restaurants and leapt off the bed. A sudden thought struck him as the pathetic pile of clothes taunted him from the doorway.

WHAT THE HELL WAS HE GOING TO WEAR?

  
“This is a lovely restaurant.” Ushijima remarked as he looked around at the low ceiling and mood lighting.  
“Isn’t it? They have the best Japanese breakfast I’ve ever had. It’s one of my favorite places to come, but they only serve breakfast until 10:30. I come here a lot so they make an exception for me.”  
“Does your frequent presence account for the horde of paparazzi outside?”  
Oikawa flapped a dismissive hand, “They followed _you_ here.”  
“I suppose there will be an absolute riot in tomorrow’s tabloids.”  
“Tomorrow!” Oikawa snorted as he pulled out his phone and tapped over to Kise's social media account, “All the gossip rags worth their weight have already analyzed and reviewed everything. They’ve probably moved onto Kise’s latest scandy post.”  
“Kise Ryouta?”  
“The one and only blonde butterball.” He murmured as he gazed at the tanned arm that hung around Kise's neck, though the body attached to it was cut off there was enough skin shown to deduce that both of them were naked. The comments below were already making connections to the previous post with what appeared to be the same man. Oikawa bit his lip, unaware of the hungry gaze that followed the motion. Was Kise being an idiot? Why not just come out and tell the world HELLO I'M GAY AND LOVIN IT! HERE'S MY SORTA BOYFRIEND WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER-ISH SINCE THE BEGINNING OF MY MODELING DAYS! Kise wasn’t afraid of being out, at least not from what he’d told Oikawa, he was afraid of outing his cop boyfriend. Ushijima stepped in, not liking the concerned expression settling on the other's face.  
“I’ve watched a few of the things he’s been in, he’s talented.”  
Oikawa arched an eyebrow and put away his phone as their waitress dropped off their food and arranged it neatly on the table.  
“You don’t strike me as the kind of person who would watch the things Kise’s been in. They’re either rock band melodramas or happy-go-lucky romcoms. The pilot one was the best though.”  
Ushijima disguised his smile by taking a sip of tea, “The uniforms hugged his figure nicely.”  
“Hey! That’s my friend you’re ogling.”  
  
They continued their dinner talking about the merits of tight clothing in media until the bill for their meal arrived. Ushijima neatly swiped it, slipped in his card and handed it back to their waitress all with a gleaming, smug smile. She left quickly and Oikawa looked at his dinner/breakfast partner with a scowl.  
“So unnecessary. Friends go dutch!”  
“You can pay for the next meal. After all, didn’t I invite you out tonight?” He asked with a mischievous gleam in his eye.  
“Fine, next time I’ll pay.”  
  
Had he been tricked into another dinner with the Olympic idiot? No, nope, his brain functioned at a level a thousand times above muscles-for-hire. Besides, the "dinner invitation" was a little bit underhanded on his part anyway.  
They left through the back door and parted ways at the train station. It left Oikawa’s chest feeling funny. How many times had they played this exact scene? In their youth the train station was where they parted until the next weekend or break. Well, the actual platform was where they said their goodbyes, with a lingering kiss in the bathroom stall, but it was as close to their past as they’d gotten without wallowing in regret. The same thought must’ve been running through Ushijima’s mind because he enveloped Oikawa in a hug. It should have been brief, but the longing and the lingering memories had Oikawa wrapping his arms around Ushiwaka's broad back, not caring who saw. There they stood, in the middle of bustling Wednesday night foot traffic. They both needed to leave and untangle before someone recognized them, but neither of them wanted to move from the impromptu embrace. It was Ushijima who moved first.  
"Friends hug, don't they?" He asked with a soft smile, "I'll see you this weekend?"  
"Yeah, yeah, of course, see you then. Bye."  
  
Oikawa all but ran to catch a taxi home.

A shorter man flopped down onto the bench next to Oikawa with a big smile, "Are you really Ushijima's friend? Heard you guys played against each other in high school and he was a monster back then."  
"Yeah that's me. He was alright, but now he's an Olympic champion and I'm just a wannabe model."  
"Dude are you kidding? Our entire team freaked out when they heard he was bringing you. All of our trainers and coaches are here even though it's just a friends and family day!"  
"Friends and family day? Is that a real thing?"  
The other man laughed, "No, but that's what we call it. The other members bring their wives or their friends. Gotta show off while we can you know? Most of us will fade into obscurity, but at least we'll have met some important people along the way, right?"  
God that was heavy. Oikawa stood up abruptly and turned to the libero.  
"Can friends and family show off too or no?"  
The libero pushed off the bench, "Gonna wow people with some strutting?"  
Oikawa answered with a predatory look masked with a pretty smile.  
  
  
As practice ended a few brave women ventured over to Oikawa and asked for his picture or an autograph. He happily indulged them and promised next time he'd try to see if Kise or Kisumi were free. The answering squeals left him buoyant until the libero walked over.  
"You're coming again right? Next time you have to play a set with us!"  
The defensive line and both setters agreed loudly, it left Oikawa feeling embarrassed and quietly happy.  
"I couldn't. It would just interfere with your practice schedule."  
"No way, you have to. Or just be our relief server cause damn that thing was hard to receive."  
There were more agreements. One of the setters remarked coyly that they'd never seen Ushijima as happy as he'd been today. The others chimed in and more agreements were to be had. It was true, they crowed, it was the only time they'd seen him so happy. Oikawa flushed and ducked his head to hide the embarrassing flood of emotion. If the laughter was anything to go by, he'd failed fabulously. The coach called over the players gathered around Oikawa and they began to trail towards him reluctantly, all of them making Oikawa promise to play a set with them in the future.  
  
Sweat and floor cleaner permeated the smells of the gym, but the air was filled with laughs and happiness. Nostalgia hit Oikawa roughly. It was different from the memories that had swept the two of them away the past Wednesday, but it was just as important a memory. His favorite memory was watching the way Ushijima's calves tensed as they prepared to jump for a spike. And how the sweat rolled down his face. And the tiny satisfied expression when a spike went through. Today's practice brought all the old memories out in full force. He'd been more than pleased to see that Oikawa's memories of Ushijima's abilities had also been untouched by the 12 year filter. Though it would be hard to further embellish such an impressive person. The team broke off and they paired up with their family and friends, Ushijima stalked over to him.  
"You seemed to enjoy yourself."  
"I did. Your teammates are lovely people."  
"They're talented."  
"Jealous?"  
Ushijima huffed and turned his head away. Oikawa watched in rapt fascination as a drop of sweat slid down his neck and into the jersey.  
"Maybe it's the promise of spring around the corner."

It’s officially spring in April with rising temperatures and the bitter, but persistent last dredges of winter finally slipping away. Oikawa found that it was only more and more difficult to find people who wanted to work with him. Only the dinners and lunches with Ushijima lifted his spirits any while the occasional venture over to volleyball practice helped in its own way. More and more people were beginning to notice their relationship, but it wasn't capturing as much fanfare as it had in the early days, much to the relief of the both of them. Ushijima was the one who gingerly brought up the idea of moving to another company. Something Oikawa hadn't forgotten, but hadn't given much more thought to after the initial interest After earnestly looking into his previous offers from other companies, he settles on Grand Line Entertainment, liking the atmosphere and the easygoing, but hardworking attitude of the employees. Such a beautiful and welcomed departure from the fool that was his manager. He'd liked his manager as a person, but as an entertainment manager he was maybe not great. Or it could have just been with Oikawa's previously demanding schedule. His manager was a good person, but if Oikawa left the company then he'd be out of a job for a few months and be relegated to legwork around the company. Honestly his manager might have enjoyed that, but even Oikawa wasn't so heartless that he'd make his previous management go with him to scout out new companies. So he'd been thoroughly avoiding and dodging his manager for a couple of days now. He suddenly realizes that in addition to avoiding his manger he hadn’t talked to the president in weeks. Counting off the weeks it bothers him to find that soon it’ll have been a month since their blowout, their kind of break up.  
  
His phone vibrates with a text from Ushijima, confirming their dinner plans for later that night. Oikawa smiles at the screen before shaking his head lightly. He knew what had to be done and the sooner the better.  
"I guess I should tell him tonight then." Oikawa mused out loud.  
  
It would be the end of an era, but it would be the beginning of another one and he was tired of waiting for his brain to catch up with what his heart had been telling him for a month now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Being with him...it made me realize that I never loved you, not the way I thought.”  
> “I’m sure that's what everyone wants to hear. My boyfriend’s ex helped him realize that he never loved me in the first place.”


	5. In the Summertime When the Weather is Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dramatic finale of los embriones.

Dinner was as quiet an affair as usual, save for the paparazzi pressed up against the windows. It didn’t bother them as much as it did in the beginning. Taking care of the fallout from their _Illicit ONE NIGHT STAND between former OLYMPIAN and TOP MALE MODEL_ had been more than enough to prepare them for the following onslaught of interest. The increased interest was uncomfortable but they no longer cared, security would take care of the offenders soon enough. There were more important things in life than a few measly pictures. Besides, they were super wrong about the top male model part, well, in bed at least.

“I’m moving entertainment companies.” Oikawa announced suddenly, having been unsure of when to drop that little bombshell he decided sooner was better than never, “I’m leaving my company.”  
Ushijima was smart enough to read between the lines. His wine glass had been halfway to his mouth, but he put it down with an unsteady hand. There was a funny emotion in his eyes.  
“You are?”  
“Yes.”  
“Have you decided on another company?”  
“I have. It’s a good company, hard-working, diligent, good people. I like it.”  
Ushijima looked at his glass of wine with thoughtful eyes.  
“That’s good.”  
Oikawa swallowed.

NOTHING VENTURE, NOTHING GAINED.

“What are we?”  
Ushijima’s head jerked up to stare at his dining companion.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Our relationship,” He said while pretending not to wipe his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans, “Duh.”  
  
The Olympian paused; he tried counting to ten but only got to seven before responding.  
  
“We are friends,” He ventured, “Our relationship is our friendship and just that.”  
Oikawa nodded, he knew that, but now he felt like it had become less about their friendship and more about their relationship as two individuals.  
“I think I want more. Do you?”  
“Of course I do,” There was something akin to ferocity in Ushijima’s eyes, “You cannot know how much I want more, how much I want you. But I told you this at the beginning, I do not play second to anyone, especially you.”  
“I think I want that. For you to be first.”  
Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the hopeful twinkle in Ushijima’s eyes, the way his mouth curved into a smile. It made him so beautiful. The light in his eyes, the smile on his lips, it made Oikawa want to take him home and have his way with him. Explore the body he’d been refused just weeks ago. But slow and steady won the race, right?  
He took a steadying breath and they finished their dinner in peace, ignoring the still audible shouts and cries of the paparazzi. Lady Gaga they were not.

They don’t see each other for the next four days and Oikawa was so bored. Texts were fun. Who didn’t love a good emoji? But their conversations were so much more fun in person. Something about seeing the frown lines gather on Ushijima’s face made the emojis almost boring. Though it was probably because he didn’t get to see the slight, but savory reactions of sweet, sweet Ushijima. They were still friends, of course, but it was the longest they’d gone without seeing each other. God, he was acting like a lovesick fool. He wasn’t in high school anymore! But maybe that was what gave him context. Thinking back on their relationship, from high school to their first year in college, it made Oikawa realize that somehow, someway, they’d entered into the next phase of any relationship. Their explosive chemistry had mellowed into a stronger foundation that was supported by their newfound friendship, something that had been lacking when they were high schoolers.

In high school it had been the rivalry, the sizzle, the challenge. It and the teenage hormones because come on were the real reasons why every touch made his stomach twist and his skin sing. He’d been a walking ball of exposed nerves and Ushijima had been no different, plus their inflated volleyball egos probably didn’t help. But now that they were older, now that they’d seen a bit of the world, now that they’d been with other people they knew better; knew that a relationship didn’t last on electrifying attraction alone. Relationships were hard work and they hadn’t been prepared for the amount of time and effort it required when they were younger. But now, now they knew better. It just upset Oikawa that it had taken him years to figure that out.

 _to Muscles Magoo_  
_Lunch?_  
_A quick one. Team meeting later._  
_That’s fine I have some loose ends to tie up too. SG? I have stuff to take care of in the area._  
_10 minutes?_  
_Perfect._

The paparazzi had taken to following the duo whenever and wherever they were in public, but how they’d managed to track down the impromptu lunch was beyond the both of them. Thankfully the two of them had an agreement with the managerial staff. No pictures while they were at the hotel and they wouldn’t bring either of their massive security fleets. Something about a lobby and restaurant filled with black suits was unappealing and unappetizing. Most days, like today, the manager was the older gentleman who’d given Oikawa a box of tissues, but sometimes it was the woman with pearls. She always wore the same rope of pearls around her neck. Some were discolored and lackluster with age, but she wore them with such loyalty Oikawa had wondered at their origin until he’d seen a matching necklace worn by restaurant’s manager. It explained why the workers at the hotel were so nonchalant about Oikawa and Ushijima’s tabloid tainted relationship, even if they were just rumors. Today, he was glad for their nonchalant acceptance.

“What errands do you have to run?”  
“Oh it’s nothing,” Oikawa waved his chopsticks, “Looking for gifts to give my manager and the other staff members who’ve helped me, going to the bank, looking for a new apartment, maybe some shopping if I have time at the end of all of it. Loose ends. What’s your team meeting about?”  
“We’ll be leaving soon for our training facility in Osaka. Tonight’s meeting is about last-minute schedule changes and finalizing our training regimen.”  
“I’ll miss you.”

It was so out of the blue for the both of them that they lapsed into silence. They’d not brought up the tentative status of them, not talked about it since Monday. But it wasn’t weird to say something like that between friends. Kise said to him and Kisumi every time he left for an overseas project. Oikawa held his chopsticks in a stiff fist. Stupid fucking mouth.

“I’ll miss you too.” There was a gentle smile before Ushijima resumed his lunch.

Awesome fucking mouth.

Speaking of mouths, Ushijima Wakatoshi eating should not be fascinating, but fuck him it was.  
“What is it people say? Take a picture, it’ll last longer?”  
Oikawa’s mouth dropped open, “Hey! Rude.” Ushijima got a chuckle in before he could reply, “I like looking at the real thing though, so no picture is going to cut it.”  
“I understand that, I enjoy looking at you in person too.”  
“Do you?”  
Ushijima looked away, “If you could see the magazines I have, you would laugh at me.”  
Was it him or did all the air disappear? Oikawa swallowed dryly, “Magazines?”  
Ushijima’s ears turned red, “Yes, magazines. I think I have every magazine you’ve ever been in. I have watched all your shows, your movies, your radio interviews.” He shook his head, “ _I_ think it’s weird, so I cannot begin to imagine what you must think of it.”  
Oikawa’s eyes widened, his mouth parted, his heart held still.  
“You have my magazines?”  
“Yes, it’s odd I know.”  
“It isn’t. It’s not odd at all.”  
Ushijima looked at Oikawa, hearing the conviction in his voice. He saw the wide eyes, the parted mouth, the way his shoulders had stiffened.  
“You have my magazines?” He asked with palpable incredulousness.  
“I’ve watched all your interviews, I steal magazines from the salon so I can take them home with me, I have a huge, shameful stack of shit in my closet and they all have your face on them. Do you think I’m weird?”  
“No, no, I don’t.”  
“Good, cause I thought I was pretty freaking weird myself.” He paused, “You have my magazines?”  
“You have mine?”  
“I have everything.”

They stared at one another as if they were seeing each other for the first time. There was something soul crushing in Ushijima’s eyes and no doubt it was reflected in his own eyes. Ushijima stood up and took his hand.  He didn’t remember getting the bill or leaving the restaurant. All he knew was that they were standing at the front desk, getting a key and a soft smile from the manager.

The elevator ride was quiet, the brisk walk down the hallway to their room no different, only when Ushijima kept missing the key card slot was there sound as he cursed under his breath. Oikawa’s hands had lost reason, he found them crawling all over Ushijima’s body. Exploring the body of a man with relentless pursuit. It was different from the body his hands had known when they were students, different even from the body a month ago.

Ushijima yanked Oikawa into their hotel room. They kissed against the wall by the door as Oikawa kicked it shut. He almost let himself be lead into the room.

“Wait, wait, wait.”  
  
Oikawa popped his head back out of the room as he hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, doing it as quickly as he could because now Ushijima’s hands had decided it was their turn to explore. It didn’t help that he bit Oikawa’s neck or the totally involuntary squeak that came with it. Now they were pressed up against the door and moving seemed optional.  
“Timing.” Oikawa panted in between kisses.  
Jumping into bed was so not a good idea. They had schedules to keep and appointments to go to.  
“Such nonsense.” Ushijima growled back at him.

That growl might have unraveled the last of his sanity. This time Oikawa was the one who lead them, prior engagements be damned. He yanked Ushijima into the room and pushed him onto the bed.  
“I liked when you were aggressive.” He remarked as his eyes travelled up the length of Oikawa’s body, lingering somewhere around his mouth before looking into his eyes.  
“Me too.”  
Ushijima reached out and pulled Oikawa to him, they fell back onto the bed a tangle of legs and emotions.

Oikawa glanced down the dark hallway, making sure it was empty before continuing along his way. He’d never before been nervous, not once, not even at the very beginning of his career, but the circumstances now weren’t what they’d been then.  
Coming back here, after everything that had happened, was hard. This was where they’d had their last fight, where they’d broken up, where they had made love more times than one should in an office building. Even if that part of the building was the CEO’s office, maybe especially so.

Oikawa knocked on the door, it was a foreign feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d knocked on this particular door. The president opened the door himself and Oikawa was so not ready for that. They looked at each other. Maybe the president was thinner; he was definitely more tired looking and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. His appearance made Oikawa's heart drop with an unexplainable sadness. They stared at each for another moment before the president stepped back.

“Come in.”  
Oikawa awkwardly shuffled around him, “This is around your normal, unofficial break time, so I tried to time it right.”  
“You timed it right; I’m not busy at all.”

He purposely swiped a few papers away off his desk and into the growing, messy pile to the side. Oikawa watched the movement with a critical eye.  
“Uh huh." He crossed his arms, "Shirking your responsibilities again?”  
“No.” The president drew out his response as he looked at the ceiling with intense fascination.  
“Right, well that’s literally not my business anymore, so I won’t tell you how to live your life.”  
“Can’t you see I’m a mess without you?” The president sighed with dramatic effect, even placing a hand to his forehead.  
  
Oikawa stifled a laugh as he leaned against the stiff meeting couches. He swallowed his laughter and cleared his throat. The president, sensing the shift in conversation, looked him in the eyes.  
  
“I’ve come to terminate my contract.”  
“I know.”  
“Are you mad?”  
“No, we talked about you moving to another company, remember? It was going to be this year anyway.”  
“I’m also here to…make a clean break.”  
“I knew.” The president replied with a sad smile, “That you were coming, here, to have this conversation with me. I knew.”  
“What do you mean?” Oikawa felt his brow furrow before he could stop the evil wrinkle maker, “How could you know? I just barely decided myself.”  
“It was on G-chan’s blog this morning.”  
“What!” Oikawa pierced him with an accusatory stare, “You mean to tell me that you were all set to believe some gossip blog over me?”  
“It was a picture yesterday with Ushijima Wakatoshi. The look on his face, it’s how I used to look at you.”

Yesterday, Oikawa bit his lip. It was the revival of the Shibuya Grand Hotel as something meaningful to the both of them. Though, in truth, it had never stopped being special to either of them. Silence began to stretch into something uncomfortable.  
  
“Being with him,” He started, “It made me realize that I was just using you. That I never loved you, not the way I thought I did or the way you deserved.”  
The president scoffed as he leaned on the desk opposite the meeting chairs, “I’m sure that’s what everyone wants to hear. My boyfriend’s ex helped him realize that he never loved me in the first place.”  
“God,” Oikawa covered his face with his hands, “You must think I’m awful and I am. I shouldn’t have hurt you like this; I shouldn’t have lead you on. I’m sorry.”  
“And you’re leaving the company too.”  
“Next month, in June, when my contract expires.”  
“That’s right.”  
  
They were quiet then.  
  
“Where will you go?” He asked after a while.  
The soon-to-be ex-Eagle Eye Entertainment model looked up at the ceiling,“I was thinking about Grand Line Entertainment.”  
“I expected nothing less.”  
He looked over at the president with a challenge in his eyes, “Didn’t think I’d go to Perfection Media?”  
“I don’t think you would want to compete with Ki-chan.”  
Oikawa groaned, “Please don’t call my friends by their tabloid nicknames.”  
The president scoffed, “You think that’s his tabloid nickname? Please! More like Perfect Prince or Blonde Angel. The latest is Cat-Eye God because of that rock star drama he’s filming. There’re more because of all his recent scandy pictures, but I’ll spare you the details.”  
“You should unsubscribe from a few of those gossip blogs. You really should.”  
“Never. I’ll hold onto my precious pieces of trash til the day I die!”  
Oikawa laughed, “Only you would think that trash was precious.”  
“Me and the whole internet.”  
“So contrary.” Oikawa teased.  
“I like keeping people on their toes.”  
“You kept me on mine.”  
“As did you.”  
“I loved you, you know that, right?”  
The president’s eyes were soft, “Not like you loved him.”  
“I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone like I love him.”  
“Then hold onto that. Don’t ever let it go. Or you might end up an old man with a daddy fetish.”  
Oikawa laughed again, holding his sides, “Never!”  
The president winked, “You say that now.”  
“I’ll miss you." Oikawa announced. It was less jarring than it had been with Ushijima and hurt all the more for it, "You were the one who scouted. You were my mentor, my lover and my confidant. I didn’t love you the way I should have and that wasn’t fair to you. I know that I don’t have a right to anything anymore, but will you let me miss the man who helped make me who I am today?”  
The president’s eyes twinkled with tears or affection Oikawa couldn’t tell, “Always. You’ll always be dear to me. I can only hope that you’ll take some of me with you and you’ll think of me and us fondly.”  
  
Oikawa swallowed around the knot in his throat. He looked away so the president wouldn’t see the equally confusing mix of moisture in his eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be the cleanest of breaks, but it was more than enough.  
  
  
“It went well.”  
Oikawa looked up from his wallet.  
“What went well?”  
He knew what Ushijima was referring to. It was the way he’d said it, not a question just a statement.  
“I’m glad. I know he was important to you.”  
“I’m going to get the Indian curry next time, looks good. Or maybe the udon noodle salad.”  
“I love you.”  
“What? Wait, what? Now? You want to do this now? Over udon noodle salad? Come on!”  
“It would be true anywhere else and it’s true even here, over curry udon noodle salad.”  
“Shoot now I want curry udon.” Oikawa muttered as he scoured the menu taped next to the register.

He looked up and they made eye contact again. Undeterred, Oikawa walked out of the restaurant, ignoring the niceties the wait staff yelled out after him. He ignored the flashing bulbs and waited until Ushijima came out of the restaurant before resuming their conversation.  
“Trials are starting soon, aren’t they?”  
Ushijima nodded as he walked alongside Oikawa, “They are; we’ll have more intensive training sessions starting next week to prepare. Then we’ll have a few days of vacation and go into last-minute training to be in top form for the games.”  
They dodged a few wayward fans and walked towards the subway, “So, you’ll be gone for a few months.”  
“Yes, starting next week I will have considerably less free time. From June until the end of the Olympics I’ll be overseas.”  
“Well, it’s only May, what’re you going to do during the time you have left?”

Ushijima reached out and caught Oikawa’s arm. He swung him around to face him and Oikawa saw the smile on Ushijima’s face. They were in the middle of the sidewalk in the middle of a busy city on a Saturday night. That didn’t stop Ushijima from leaning in and kissing him in the middle of a sidewalk in a busy on a Saturday night. Oikawa didn’t stop him. It was a kiss of promise and it promised the future. A future that they could’ve had years ago, but they’d both been too stupid, too blind and too proud to admit to themselves that what they had was real. Well, they both knew it now and neither of them were to be blind, proud fools again.  
He was sure people were reacting negatively that there were phones and cameras out, but that didn’t matter to him right now. Ushijima pulled away and there was an incredible fondness in his eyes.

“I’m sure I will be able to think of something.”

 **August**  
  
_“I tell ya Jimmy old bean, this year’s volleyball is going to Japan for the third games in a row. It's never been done before!”  
_  
Jimmy chuckled and turned to his commentator in the booth, aware of all the cameras zooming in on the two of them.  
  
_“We’re seeing history in the making here aren’t we? Here’s Japan’s Ooshijma Wakaytashi gearing up for yet another fantastic spike. And there it goes! Bouncing right off libero Scorsese and outside the court! Japan’s done it! Three years in a row and a smashing finish by Japan!”_  
_“Never been done before!”_  
  
The camera zooms in on Ushijima’s face. He seems to be searching the crowd, he stops and a huge smile breaks out as happiness fills his face. Everyone in the vicinity of his smile began cheering and shouting even louder, thinking the smile was for them. Later, they would go home wondering what he’d been smiling at.  
The cheers seem to get even louder as his teammates come to hoist him onto their shoulders. Then, for whatever reason, the camera pans over to where Oikawa is standing; screaming and jumping up and down with raucous joy. He’s waving a banner and his face is marked up with supportive words, but the most eye-catching thing is the absolute happiness in his face.  
  
_“Look at that big old smile of his. Probably for that pretty little boyfriend of his waiting in the stands, eh Jim?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read You're Still Laughably Confident! I can't believe it's done, over, finished. A-freaking-mazing. Really, really, super very, really, real, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. My first finished fic ever. Let's see if I can keep the ball rolling with Kise and Aomine's story up next. Shoot, if you thought UshiOi had communication issues wait til you read about the next two idiots. I hope that my fic brought happy, fluttery feelings and tears of joy instead of the overwhelming desire to chuck it in the bin. Not that I had that desire. After every sentence I wrote. Whaaaaaat?


End file.
